


The Humbling River

by HooahSergeant



Series: Tumbleweeds [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 14:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4064080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HooahSergeant/pseuds/HooahSergeant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He told her that who they had been didn't matter anymore, and that they were all new, born again, getting a second chance at life. Even if it wasn't the life they would have chosen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

It’ll take a lot more than words and guns,

A whole lot more than riches and muscle.

The hands of the many must join as one,

And together we’ll cross the river.

‘The Humbling River - Puscifer’

\---

She didn’t know how long they’d been in the air, just that it was long enough for a chill to creep into the belly of the Sea Stallion they were all sitting in. Everyone was huddled together; she wouldn’t say cuddling because the idea of Chevy and Alex snuggling up to each other had her choking on a laugh, but most were pressed shoulder to shoulder, leaning heavily on one another. 

They’d been fighting to stay alive for so long now that this brief respite, and the safety they all felt, had lulled them into the exhausted half-sleep of toddlers worn out from a day playing at the park. 

Speaking of toddlers, she craned her neck, chin lifting from its perch atop of Rachel’s bent head so she could scan the dimly lit interior for the little girl, Becca. It took her a moment but she found her, curled up next to a small boy, sleeping like she didn’t have a worry in the world.   
Quinn smiled tiredly and resettled into a semi-comfortable position with her ass on the hard, rattling floor and back pinned up against the ribs of the chopper. Rachel shifted at the movement, her arm squeezing Quinn’s waist. “Do you need me to move?”

“No,” Quinn said quickly, louder than she’d intended. She ducked her head sheepishly and repeated herself at a quieter volume. “No. You’re fine where you are. You’re keeping me warm.”

Rachel hummed lowly and Quinn sucked back a gasp when Rachel nuzzled against her chest. Nuzzled. Clearly Rachel was just as tired as the rest of the group to be doing such a thing. But once Quinn’s heart settled back down at the unexpected and sweet gesture she found herself wishing that Rachel would do it again. Neither of them were who they once were; their ability to adapt and survive was an obvious and necessary change that had kept them alive, but that small, unconscious, intimate thing was more reminiscent of old Rachel instead of her Rachel as she’d come to think of her, and Quinn wanted to see if she could bring out some other parts of old Rachel. Maybe something between old Rachel and her Rachel, if such a feat were possible considering the lives they were living. 

“Still mad at me?” Quinn asked, very carefully and strategically brushing her lips with the barest of contact against Rachel’s hair. They tingled afterwards and the anxiousness of what Rachel would do had her shaking ever so slightly, but she was proud of her efforts, small as they might be.

“Infuriated,” Rachel mumbled, drawing back her arm to lazily poke a finger into Quinn’s belly. “You jerk.”

“Does this mean there will be yelling later? My ears are still kind of ringing from all the gunfire and Chevy’s grenade, so I’m not sure how much will get through,” Quinn joked as she shuffled her shoulders to inch down further on the wall. 

“I’ll yell extra loud to make sure you understand each and every word.” Rachel started to pick her head up and Quinn’s heart leapt into her throat, muscles tensing, waiting for Rachel to pull away completely. She merely squinted at Quinn for a long moment and frowned thoughtfully, then laid back down, squirming around until she’d found a comfy spot again. 

“What was that about?” Quinn raised an eyebrow, bewildered.

“It’s weird, this feeling like everything’s okay. I haven’t felt calm or relief like this in years. I’m joking with you and there isn’t the undercurrent of – of not knowing if there will be a later for me to yell at you. Does that make sense? I guess I was checking to see if this was real or not.”

“You know when we land things are going to go back to the way they were. It’ll be dangerous again,” Quinn said and hesitantly touched her fingers to Rachel’s hair. She’d done it before but it felt different this time. “We’re in the lull, hanging literally in the air, but we’ll be back on Earth soon enough and the peace will pass.”

“Maybe,” Rachel argued faintly, her fingers plucking at a hole in Quinn’s shirt. “If the ship is clean it could be a haven, considering what we’ve all been through.”

“Even if there aren’t any… even then, Broadway, life at sea is not a pleasure cruise. There are all sorts of things that could go wrong.”

“Again, I feel the need to ask... did you learn about ships while on a movie set? Because I can’t recall a single film of yours being set on the high seas,” Rachel said, a now familiar lilt in her voice that told Quinn she was only lightly teasing – but mostly curious.

“Ah, well, I may have been cast in a new pirate-type film with Hunter Parrish right before… So I was doing lots of research,” Quinn explained, mildly surprised to not feel the sting of loss when she thought about the could-have-beens. 

Rachel was very still for a few moments and Quinn wondered if she’d fallen asleep until she spoke again. “Was this like a Pirates of the Caribbean reboot? Because I suddenly feel the urge to find an enclosed space to scream in.”

“No, no,” Quinn denied with a short shake of her head. “No need for screaming. It was more of an Indiana Jones type thing.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad, I suppose. Where would you have been filming?”

Quinn smirked and raised an eyebrow, even though Rachel wouldn’t be able to see it. “The Bahamas for some of it and back in LA for the rest.”

“Wow, I kind of hate you right now,” Rachel muttered and then sighed. “I was supposed to be filming “Wicked” but we were going to be in Toronto and that is decidedly not the Bahamas.”

“Your ‘Defying Gravity’ was always amazing,” Quinn told her, smirk softening as she easily fell back into the memory of Kurt and Rachel battling for the song. “You were going to play Elphaba?”

“Of course,” Rachel answered with a touch of her old primness. “And thank you, I didn’t think you were paying attention that day.”

“I always paid attention; I just chose not to involve myself whenever possible.” Quinn sighed, trying to ignore the sick rolling feeling in her gut. Either hunger, stress, turbulence, or memories were to blame, or maybe a combination of all of them. “I meant what I said, Rachel. Just because we aren’t on land anymore doesn’t mean this is going to be any easier. In some ways it could be harder. We’ll be trapped and Mother Nature is a killer.”

“I know that, Quinn,” Rachel replied softly, not an ounce of annoyance or heat in her tone. “I just feel like it’s going to be okay now. I’m not expecting life to suddenly get any easier at all. We’re survivors of a viral holocaust being chased down by monsters that never stop, but here in this moment I feel we’ve crossed some sort of landmark, cleared an obstacle that seemed impossible. It feels like – like maybe we have a chance.” 

Rachel stopped fiddling and wrapped both her arms around Quinn’s waist, hugging her loosely. “I – I feel different, lighter, like some of that burden is gone, and… this is the part where we change again. It’s all going to change again.”

Quinn forced herself to relax and accept Rachel’s embrace, tamping down the urge to distance herself. Rachel wasn’t trying to hurt her; if anything she was handling Quinn so gently, as though afraid she’d break her. “You’re not afraid of that?”

“I am, but I’m hoping that – sometimes change is good. I’m looking at the positives right now because I can,” Rachel said, loosening further until her arms were simply laying limp around Quinn, resting against her rather than holding. “When we land I’ll start looking at all the angles; right now I just want to be. I want to enjoy the lull, as you called it, because I don’t know when I’ll get another chance. It could be soon or it could be another thing to strive for. That next moment of rest may be the goal that keeps me moving.”

It was a silent shift but a powerful one, that Quinn felt deep in her gut at Rachel’s words, a longing so strong that her breath caught in lungs. She could almost see it, that moment where they could be at peace, when things were no longer as hard as they had been. Maybe not ever completely safe but more manageable to the point where they could really begin to heal. 

She wanted it so badly for all of them, but she wanted it worse for Rachel. 

“Then let’s take this break for as brief or long as it lasts,” she said, letting her head fall back and eyes slip closed. Her head was aching, a constant throb to the beat of her heart, and she couldn’t actually sleep but she kept her eyes closed and let her mind drift, daring to dream about the future.

Her imagination ran wild, conjuring images of a sunny beach, the sand warm under her bare feet, a soft salty breeze tossing her hair and swaying the palm fronds over her head. She felt no fear, wasn’t looking over her shoulder, or scanning the horizon for danger. Down the beach there were rough little huts constructed, tables and chairs carved out, people gathered around fires, cooking and laughing while some slept in hammocks after a long day of scavenging and hunting for food. Rachel would be there, too, of course, looking younger and happier, with her hand in Quinn’s. 

It was so easy to picture it all, even if it made her ache, and she couldn’t help but wonder if her love for Robinson Crusoe was to blame for such a setting or if the talk of the Bahamas had brought such images to her mind.

Still, she thought with a small smile and peek at the others around her, it wasn’t a bad thing to dream about and maybe, just maybe, someday she would live to see it come to life. 

Hopefully without the cannibals – she’d really had enough of all of that.

\---

TBC…


	2. Chapter One

They landed on the ship with a jarring thunk and until people started moving, Quinn was convinced they’d crashed. Children were woken up, leaning buddies were shaken from their resting perches, and then the back hatch started to lower. 

“You have arrived,” Luz called out from the front. 

Rachel let go of Quinn and stood up, and Quinn watched her look around, squinting as light spilled in. The smell of the sea and the chill of the air hit all of them at once and excitement grabbed hold of everyone. Nervous chatter turned boisterous, people were smiling, clapping each other on the shoulder, hugging. They thought they’d made it. 

Lurching up to her feet, Quinn grinned back at Chevy and followed Rachel down the ramp out into the open air. 

“It’s beautiful,” Rachel said when Quinn stopped next to her. 

Stretching out before the bow of the ship and beyond was endless blue, and as the wind kicked up and tossed Quinn’s hair across her face she couldn’t bring herself to care. 

It felt like freedom.

Then she looked around, attempting to stay objective about where they had landed. The Sea Stallion was resting on an honest to God heli-pad, and when she leaned carefully over to see the decks below glossy wood winked back up at her. She’d been expecting a fishing ship, a trawler, something heavily metal and rusted from years at sea. It looked more like a large yacht. She half expected someone to come out to greet them with hot towels and a pitcher of lemonade. Would there be a pool and shuffleboard as well? 

“This is...” she trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe her wonderment. It was almost too good to be true.

“First things first,” Rachel said once her own shock had worn off. “We need to organize some teams and search every inch of this ship. God knows we don’t need anymore surprises.”

Quinn barely listened to anything else Rachel said, too amazed at the way that the weighty mantle of leadership fell upon her shoulders the second she spoke. Quinn could barely breathe she was so in awe of the transformation she was getting to witness. Rachel’s shoulders pulled back, her chin lifted, and something else - something inside - shifted, and while it wasn’t a visible change Quinn could feel the charge in the air. 

She did hear Rachel pairing people off to check the ship and took a step closer, very lightly touching Rachel’s elbow. “I’ll go with you.”

Rachel turned to her, eyes hidden behind the large frames of her sunglasses. “You don’t want -”

“I’ll go with you,” Quinn repeated. There was no way now that she was letting Rachel out of her sight. 

A small smile twitched briefly at the corner of Rachel’s mouth and then it was gone and she was shouting at the others to be heard over the wind. 

“Luz, Ollie, you two stay here and keep an eye on things. I don’t think we’ll be needing an escape but better safe than dead. Alex, Chevy - you two come with Quinn and I. Kevin? Crowd control.”

“Only four?” Chevy asked, hands cradling his M4. He narrowed his eyes over at the metal ladder on the other side of the helicopter pad. “You think that’s enough?”

“It’s smart,” Quinn interrupted, before Rachel could get annoyed. “No need to put more people in danger.”

Chevy grunted, Alex shrugged, and beside her Quinn heard Rachel huff. 

“Let’s get moving, I want to meet Captain Bitterman and hopefully thank him for saving our asses.” Without another word Rachel left, her battered converse slapping against the ground. 

“Your friend is bossy,” Chevy said with a smile, taking off after Rachel with Alex right behind him.

Quinn paused for a moment, took in a deep breath of salty sea air, and then spun around to follow the others. The pistol in her hands felt weird, small and light in comparison to her shotgun. She made a mental note to see about replacing it as she slowly walked across to the ladder. The ship was rocking under her feet and she definitely hadn’t figured out how to walk with the world tilting just yet; it almost reminded her of being drunk. When she got to the ladder Chevy and Alex were almost halfway down and Rachel was at the bottom, hands on her hips. 

The clang of her boots on the steps was shockingly loud, and Quinn froze at the first step and was more cautious with the second but it didn’t matter. There would be no stealthy way to get to the bottom and anything on the ship would already know they were there anyway, thanks to the Sea Stallion. 

She sighed in relief when her feet hit the deck. No more loud noises. Rachel, Chevy, and Alex were looking out over the back of the ship, all standing shoulder to shoulder. “Guys?”

“It’s kind of amazing,” Rachel said, turning to look at Quinn over her shoulder. “We’ve been in the desert for so long and now we’re on the ocean. The view is the same - you can still see for miles - but now it’s water instead of sand.”

“We can appreciate the view later.” Quinn jerked her thumb towards the side of the ship. “How about we find a door and start checking this place out?”

“What kind of ship do you think this is?” Alex asked instead of doing as suggested. 

“It’s like a small cruise ship without the pool and the hot chicks in bikinis,” Chevy said. 

Quinn opened her mouth to reply but Rachel turned around with a tight smile and dragged both men around with her. “Later. She’s right; we can all explore more and reminisce later. Let’s get to work. We’ll take the upper decks, you two go down.”

“It rocks more lower down?” Alex stared down at his feet with a small frown. 

“Come on, maybe we can find you some saltines,” Chevy said.

Quinn stayed right behind Rachel as she went towards the side of the ship, close enough to be watching over Rachel’s shoulder for trouble, pistol ready. 

“There are balconies on these rooms,” Alex said from behind them. Quinn leaned over the railing to her side and looked down, and sure enough there were rows of small patios.

“Alex it’s hard enough to focus without you acting like a tourist.” Quinn shot him a quick glare and gestured at the access door ahead of them. “Rachel? After you?”

Rachel smirked briefly and stepped forward to lead the charge. It struck Quinn again just how different Rachel was now. Boldly going first into potential danger instead of Before, where she wanted to lead because she wanted the control or the attention. It was almost like she’d been born for this new world.

By the time Quinn cleared her mind of her thoughts Rachel was already several paces ahead, arms raised and pistol held out before her with steady hands. No matter how this new Rachel 2.0 acted - solid and sure of herself - Quinn needed to keep her near. Maybe it was nothing more than a desire to hold on to the one familiar thing she had, or maybe it was more than that, but she wouldn’t get to figure it out if she didn’t get her head into the game. 

Rachel’s movements were smooth and calculated as they crept down the dark carpeted hall together. Chevy and Alex were behind them at first, but broke off once they found a door marked with a picture of stairs. Now it was just them and the dark. Quinn moved up to stand shoulder to shoulder with Rachel as they stopped at an intersection and in an odd moment of synchronization they stepped off together again. 

Room by room they went. Quinn would throw open a door and Rachel would go in first. So far they’d found nothing except dusty but wonderful looking rooms. Beds - actual beds - and private ensuite bathrooms to boot. They hadn’t tested to see if the showers worked, but the idea of getting to take an honest to god shower made Quinn almost want to cry. If they could stay... if they could just stay one night there.

It was like they’d found paradise.

\---

Quinn didn’t know how long they’d been at it, stalking around the ship looking for trouble, but she was relieved when they finally made it to the top deck. The captain’s quarters were empty, but as they left the roomy space she saw Rachel set her jaw right before she lowered her pistol. 

“Rachel?”

“This is it,” Rachel whispered and slumped. “This is - I can’t even - I didn’t want to get my hopes up but it was impossible not to and this has exceeded them. I’m not disappointed.”

Understanding exactly what she meant, Quinn reached up and lightly set her hand on Rachel’s trembling shoulders. “Let’s find our rescuer.”

Rachel didn’t holster her pistol, though she was no longer holding it out, and Quinn lowered hers as well. The tension that had been slowly ebbing away the longer they found nothing didn’t diminish entirely, but she felt far more relaxed as they headed towards the bridge.

Well Quinn assumed it was towards the bridge; she’d been lost after the second deck. Everything looked the same. She knew they were going up and now she knew they were headed towards the front of the ship. Her limited experience on ships and research about ships told her that the bridge would be at the front on the highest deck, but she still felt out of sorts. If anyone asked why she looked so confused she’d blame it on seasickness. Or maybe on being overwhelmed at where they were and how far they’d come. 

There was one last door to go through and Rachel and Quinn froze again, Rachel’s hand on the handle. She turned to Quinn, eyes open and raw without the shield of her sunglasses. Quinn’s heart jumped into her throat as the enormity of what was happening slammed down on her. 

“Together,” she said, the croak of her own voice foreign in her ears. She put her hand on Rachel’s and together they pushed down and in. 

Standing in the doorway, she tried to look at everything at once but couldn’t comprehend all the various screens and equipment. What Quinn did recognize was another human being, a living human man seated in one of the plush chairs affixed to the floor. He was older, his white hair as tidy as his beard, and dressed in a white collared shirt and blue slacks. She wondered if those were the only clothes he had, much like the rest of them, or if he’d been unable to let go of his previous life. Either way she felt like a dirty child, an orphan like Oliver Twist, under his piercing gaze. 

Rachel shifted beside her just a little and leaned closer. “Captain Bitterman?”

“Yes,” he replied, standing up slowly, gnarled hands pressing hard into the arms of his seat. “And you must be Ms. Berry. Welcome aboard.”

The tension broke the second he smiled, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. Rachel started to laugh, or maybe cry, and strode forward to shake the man’s hand. Quinn stayed where she was, rooted to the floor. 

“Sir, it is - I do not have words for how happy I am to make your acquaintance.” Rachel laughed again and when she turned Quinn saw tears in the corners of her eyes. “This is Quinn; I’m afraid we’re both somewhat shocked. Your ship is, well, to us it seems like heaven.”

“Please, call me Jed,” he said and smiled again. “Where’s the rest of your group?”

Quinn licked at her lips. “They’re waiting for us to call them in.” 

“What is this?” Rachel asked, waving her hand around.

“The Skylark is a research vessel. She took scientists to the Antarctic for many years. I’d be happy to give a rundown of what’s left onboard once you get your crew down. I think - “ the radio crackled to life amongst the various controls and Jed held up a hand. “I’m sorry, excuse me.”

“Captain?”

Rachel shot Quinn a look, but Quinn shrugged. It would make sense if there were other survivors on the ship. 

“Rory?”

“Um, there are two men with very impressive rifles on board. Have we been boarded by pirates?”

Jed smiled. “No, we’ve picked up some new friends, Rory. Why don’t you head up to the bridge?”

“Oh... thanks for the warning. I’m sorry about that, gentlemen, apparently you’re friends. Be right up, Cap.”

“See you soon, son.” He sighed and put the radio back in it’s place. “I’m sorry, I should have realized you would have brought scouts in. That’s Rory, a nice young man I picked up in Seattle. He’s a pediatrician and normally wouldn’t hurt a fly. I hope he didn’t rough up those boys too bad.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow, trying to imagine a mild-mannered doctor getting the drop on Chevy and Alex. “I’m sure they’re fine. Those boys are both soldiers.”

“As I was saying,” Jed continued, raising his arms to guide Rachel and Quinn out of the bridge. “I think you’ll all be nicely surprised with the Skylark. Perhaps the others could meet us in the dining hall? There will be more room there.”

“There’s a dining hall?” Quinn asked, choking on the words. “With actual food?”

“Rory and I generally catch our food, but we do have some canned goods stacked away if the fishing is lousy. I hope you all like seafood.”

“Anything that is fresh would be a blessing,” Rachel said and smiled, her eyes glassy again. 

As they exited the room Alex and Chevy came towards them down the hall. Alex was poking at a whopper of a black eye and Chevy had a scowl on his face that would have scared away almost anyone. Behind them a third man was walking along with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his torn jeans. A head taller than Chevy and just as broadly shouldered, he didn’t look like any doctor Quinn had ever encountered. “Uh, I thought you said he was a pediatrician, not an MMA fighter.”

“You’re a doctor? A kid doctor?” Chevy spun around and stopped Rory short. “No, no way.”

Rory shrugged and grinned. “I already said I was sorry for kicking your ass. There’s not a whole hell of a lot to do around here other than fish and work out, okay? And I did explain to you that I studied Wing Chun. I mean, dude, let it go.”

“Fish and workout,” Alex repeated with a raised eyebrow, completely ignoring Chevy’s mumbling. “It is heaven.”

“Not until I see bikinis and margaritas,” Chevy replied.

\---

Nobody could sit still.

Seated in the ridiculously plush dining hall in the middle deck of the ship, Quinn couldn’t help but smile as she watched the group fidget like a group of kids at an assembly. Everyone wanted to explore their new surroundings, take a nap in an actual bed, shower, or have a hot meal. She would have been antsy herself, but she couldn’t move around much wedged between Luz and Chevy. 

Rachel stood in the middle of the room grinning widely with Jed right next to her. Finally, she lifted her hands and the room fell silent. “I know you all are excited and want to go look around, but we all need to make some decisions and Captain Bitterman would like to tell you about our new home.”

“There are several rooms and you’re welcome to whichever you’d like,” Jed said. “There’s a library on the third deck, a gym on the second, the physician’s room is on the first floor. We have a small theater with a small stock of movies also on the second floor. If you’d like to fish, which I would encourage seeing as Rory is a lousy fisherman - “

“Hey!” Rory shouted half-heartedly, a crooked smile on his tan features. He threw an arm over the back of his seat and CJ, who was sitting next to him. CJ rolled her eyes and looked over at Quinn who could only grin. 

“The fishing gear is on the first deck, but please come and ask me to get if for you. I’d like it if a few people could be trained to take shifts on the bridge and ask that the rest of you steer clear of it.” He looked to Rachel and she nodded before sending a pointed look over at Quinn and the rest sitting around her. “There’s also the matter of the engine room; if any of you are mechanics that would be very helpful in keeping the Skylark running.”

“I can help with that,” Ollie said, raising his hand. “I mean, I was a car mechanic before the world went to pot, but I’m familiar with the innards of vehicles so I can probably figure it out.”

“That would be great,” Jed said. “I’ll speak with you after this, if you don’t mind?”

Ollie shook his head and Jed clapped his hands together. “Then we just need to discuss whether you’re planning on staying on board or if there’s a destination in mind?”

“I feel like I’m on a cruise,” Luz mumbled to Quinn who nodded. It did feel very surreal, especially when Jed then went over safety procedures. Lifeboats. Fires. Storms. She shivered at the mention of bad weather. The idea of being on a ship as it was thrown around by waves was not appealing. Images from Titanic kept popping up in her head...

“I know we’ve been focused on getting somewhere and here we are. This feels like somewhere,” Rachel went on, once Jed had turned the room back to her. “But what we need to think about now is the future. I’d like to propose that we discuss a place that could be our own. We could settle somewhere on land and rebuild, well... humanity.”

“We just escaped from humanity, or what’s left of it,” a voice spoke out. 

“Not back to the mainland,” Rachel assured with a slow shake of her head. “That would be going backwards. What if we could find someplace with a small population - something manageable - or an uninhabited island?”

Quinn sat up, thinking about her daydream of an island paradise. “There are several small uninhabited islands out here.”

“Trouble is resources,” Chevy said, knocking his shoulder against Quinn’s like he was reading her mind and saw her dream. “We could end up stranded somewhere with no drinking water and little food. We’re going to have to go somewhere we can catch our own food and have access to water that’s not salty. I have an idea...”

“Well why do you have that look on your face that says that I’m going to hate it?” Luz asked and made a face at him. “That’s what you look like right now.”

“It’s in Alaska. There’s this island off of Kodiak: Afognak. It’s a big hunting and fishing destination. There are also pre-existing cabins and a hunting lodge, but it can get pretty cold up there.”

The room went silent as everyone worked to process the information. 

“No population?” Quinn asked, watching Rachel’s face for any hints at what she was thinking. But Rachel’s face had gone blank, giving nothing away.

“No. I was looking in to flying out there for a vacation. You either fly or take a boat there and the only people who stayed year ‘round were the caretakers. It’s close enough to Kodiak that if we needed something we could make a trip. It’d be dangerous though, doing that. Kodiak is inhabited.”

“Let’s just - all in favor of trying to find an island closer here that’s not crawling with... inhabitants, and meets our needs.” Rachel raised her hand and looked around the room. 

No one raised their hand.

“All in favor of trying for Alaska?”

One by one every hand went up.

“Well I guess I won’t be getting a tan then,” CJ quipped.

Quinn sighed when the meeting was adjourned. She watched as people all but tripped over themselves in their haste to get out and explore. Luz stood up and tapped the table with her fist. 

“Hey, we need to think about the kids,” she said, pointing out Skyler and Becca as they stood just inside the door. “A lot of them are on their own. Maybe we put all of their rooms close by? Or could we modify a space for them and have an adult with them?”

“The ship is clear,” Chevy said, quirking an eyebrow. “They’ll be fine.”

“They’re all alone. Orphans.” Luz glared at him and crossed her arms. “In another strange place, and don’t tell me this ship isn’t dangerous, Chevy. We’ve both spent time on the ocean. What are they supposed to do when they get scared and the ship is being tossed around like a cork?”

“We could pull some mattresses and put them in the conference room. We’re not using it and it should be big enough,” Rory suggested, looking to Jed who nodded. 

“I’ll take care of that,” Luz said, and before anyone else could stop her headed straight for Skyler and Becca. She knelt down and spoke quietly with the two wide-eyed kids who eventually nodded and took her hands. “I’m on channel two if anyone needs me.”

“Skyler, you okay?” Rachel asked. 

He nodded and pointed his free hand at Becca who was staring at Quinn. 

“That’s my friend Lu,” Quinn said and smiled encouragingly. “She’ll take good care of you, okay sweetie? I promise I’ll come check on you tonight.”

That seemed to mollify them, Luz turned after offering a cheeky wink and walked off with her two adopted charges. 

Rachel stepped around the table and slumped into the now open seat next to Quinn. 

“You okay?” Quinn asked. 

“Oh yeah, great. I’m in shock.”

“Think we’ll find Milla Jovovich in Alaska?” Chevy wondered.

\---

TBC…


	3. Chapter Two

Rachel realized the moment had arrived as Quinn stood up, quietly announcing that she’s going to find a room and drop her stuff off, leaving Jed and Rory talking to Chevy about Afognak and fishing. 

She followed Quinn out of the dining hall, tentatively at first but gaining momentum as she went, chasing after Quinn while half lost in memories of the times she’d done it Before in the halls of McKinley. This time Quinn isn’t wearing a uniform and Rachel isn’t intent on arguing with her about Finn or Glee, but it’s familiar just the same. 

She should have stayed behind. Should have learned everything she could about their destination. How long would it take them to get there? Would they have to stop to refuel and how they would even manage that? Maybe she should have checked on the others, made sure they were settling in alright. Definitely should have checked on Skyler.

Should have, could have, would have. At this point the only thing she knows for sure is that she doesn’t want to be doing that dance with Quinn. The one person in the world that’s… well she can’t really sum that up either.

Always - always with Quinn. Something - someone - she can’t define or figure out despite numerous attempts. More than once with the help of a therapist. 

Her journals, long lost, were full of scrawled hypotheses: Quinn had anger issues stemming from a life in a gilded cage, Quinn had postpartum depression, Quinn was lonely and needed a friend... The lists went on and on, some crossed out, and others circled. Some had a star next to them. 

Rachel shook her head and rolled her eyes thinking about her teenage self. She’d thought her obsession with solving the riddle of Quinn Fabray came only from wanting to know what Finn liked about her; if she could figure it out then she could copy without jeopardizing herself and the boy would fall at her feet. 

Now she knew why her therapist had given her such a shrewd look over the top of her glasses when Rachel had shown her the “research”.

What she wanted to do was so different from what teenage Rachel would have attempted. Perhaps just as blunt but… not. She didn’t want to scare Quinn or drive her away, or even get a simple answer. What she wanted was an indication that she - that they - were on the path to an understanding.

She didn’t even have her thoughts organized entirely - no pre-planned speech or lecture. It was dangerous to leave it that way. She knew how she could get if she just spoke her mind. But at least there weren’t any slushies around. And she doubted Quinn would slap her.

Well, she hoped Quinn wouldn’t slap her.

The things that Rachel had on her mind had been brewing since the night Ethan died; she wasn’t sure what Quinn’s reaction would be, but she had to voice them. That much hadn’t changed. 

She had to voice them before they boiled over and she said them in front of an audience.

Quinn seemed to know that she was being followed - of course she would. Just because they were “safe” didn’t mean anyone should or would be letting their guards down. Rachel smiled every time Quinn glanced back her way, making sure to drift from one side of the hall to the other so she was never in the same place, or in the expected place. At one point she was sure she’d heard a muffled chuckle.

Quinn stopped on the upper deck at the door just before the Captain’s Quarters, leaned her forehead against the metal and letting the mangled drab green pack that hung from her shoulder slip down, clinging to the crook of her elbow. She sighed, knocking her head lightly on the door with a metallic thud that made Rachel wince.

She didn’t say anything, instead leaning back against the far wall, arms crossed under her breasts, watching Quinn’s back move as she breathed. Patience wasn’t her favorite virtue, but she didn’t want to be having the conversation in the hall either, something Quinn seemed to realize after a few minutes. She didn’t look back as she opened the door, leaving it open as she went into the small room. 

Rachel followed her in after a second, closing the door behind her. Turning around, she leaned back again, fumbling for and sliding the lock in place. Quinn jumped at the sound and let out a grunt, dropping her pack onto the double bed. 

The room looked just like all the others. There was a bed - a simple mattress with all the linens neatly folded at the foot and two pillows stripped bare. A small couch took up the rest of the wall, a card table bolted to the floor in front of it. A desk was similarly bolted down on the shorter wall right up against a light colored wooden wardrobe. One plastic door took up the other wall leading to the tiny bathroom. All of the fabric in the cabin was a rich navy blue, and Rachel couldn’t decide if that was because they were on the ocean or if it was because the color was thought to be soothing. 

She didn’t feel all that soothed. Not at all.

Quinn patted at her thighs and turned, eyes trained on the blue linoleum floor. 

Actually, there was probably way too much blue going on.

Rachel licked at her lips, pulling her shoulders back and raising her chin. It was time. Things had to be said before they exploded. Before she exploded, at least, which was why they needed to talk in the first place. She desperately needed to be on the same page - in the same book - as Quinn. That would only be accomplished with words.

It was the least painful way she could think of.

Something was sitting just below the surface with them as it always had been. It felt large but not ominous in any way and Before Rachel had wanted to know what it was, what the ticking time bomb she could almost hear in every conversation and every look they’d shared was. The numbers continued to tick down and now, standing in a locked room facing a very timid looking Quinn, it seemed like maybe the timer had finally hit zero.

Or maybe it was just, at least, infinitesimally closer.

“We need to talk, and I don’t mean about earlier.” She watched closely as Quinn slumped, fingers picking at the torn edge of her shirt. The light spilling in from the small porthole window brought out the brightness of Quinn’s sun bleached hair and highlighted the dirt trapped in the creases on her face. She looked tired, so achingly tired and filthy and somehow, while Rachel thought she should look older, she looked so young in her tattered Guns ‘n Roses raglan and distressed skinny jeans. They were all tired, had been tired for days upon days. Years. It had become so normal that she’d forgotten that it wasn’t normal. In the new light and new environment it hit her all over again. They’d been too close to death for far too long that she wanted - needed - to put the life back in Quinn. Back in all of them. 

“Quinn, please look at me.”

Quinn did as told and Rachel bit into her bottom lip until she tasted blood. Those hazel eyes were bloodshot and looked at her seriously and with so much uncertainty in her full expression. 

“I know,” Quinn said and stopped fidgeting with her shirt. “We do need to talk.”

Rachel stepped closer to her, shaking fingers uncurling and reaching out. She shook her head and redirected her hands, one to rub at the back of her neck and the other to scratch below her collarbone. 

Too much. Too fast. Too soon. 

She thought it even as the shakes intensified, traveling from her fingers down her arms and through her body. Her knees wobbled and her lip trembled; what she was about to do would either send them further down the track to healing or it would ruin everything. 

“I want you to touch me,” she whispered, throat too tight for her to say it full voice. 

“W-what?” Quinn’s eyes went wide for a second, and she turned her head the slightest bit away. “Why?”

“Please.” Rachel reached out and grasped Quinn’s wrist gently. She was careful and slow, watching Quinn’s face the whole time to see the way her brow furrowed, the way her lips parted the barest inch to draw in more air. How her eyes started to shine in the light of the setting sun with tears that wouldn’t be shed. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Quinn said roughly, not resisting when Rachel pulled her hand over and set it on her hip. “Rachel - I’m - I can’t let…”

Rachel slid her palm down and held Quinn’s hand against her skin, keeping both of them still and anchored in the moment together with just the touch. No more drifting, not if Quinn would accept it. She could feel her twitching, the tendons in her hand moving as fingers started to hold Rachel in turn. 

“I’m here,” Rachel said softly, determined to get her point across but afraid of spooking Quinn by speaking too assuredly all the same. They had to do this together. 

“Quinn, I’m here and I’m alive and I’m not leaving. I need you... I need you to be here with me. You can touch me; I’m not going to disappear. Or break.”

“You could die.” Quinn shook her head, voice wobbling. “You’re the only person in the world that I know that’s left, and you could die and I’m afraid of- It’s so lonely. I can’t…”

It felt to Rachel like her heart stopped as she waited for Quinn to choose. She had to make the choice, Rachel had done what she could.   
Fear was plain in Quinn’s expression, in the way her breathing had sped up, coming out ragged and pained. She whimpered and then her other hand reached and joined it’s twin on Rachel’s other hip. 

Sensing a stall, Rachel decided to push just a little harder. “People die, Quinn. But that’s not a good enough excuse, for either of us. I don’t know what this is either, but I want…” she trailed off, searching for the right words. “We can’t be afraid of something that could be when we need this. I will not let my fear keep me from trying to figure this out.” Rachel looked down and covered Quinn’s other hand, squeezing both and letting out a sigh. “Stop running from me, okay? Whatever else is going on with the world with all these people, I know you. I know you and you know me and that’s not something we get to be afraid of. I don’t need you to prove to me that you’re tough or untouchable or unlovable or whatever else it is you’re carrying around. It’s not your fault. Stop punishing yourself and look at us - look at me. Look where we are. We’re alive and that’s okay. You don’t need to feel the guilt anymore than I do. I need you,” she admitted, ducking her head, blush burning her cheeks, and peeked up through her bangs to see Quinn staring at her. “And I think you need me, too.”

She took a deep breath and held it as something flickered in Quinn’s eyes. A flash of recognition, perhaps. Recognition of a need that they’d both been trying to push to the side. Now she’d given voice to it and it appeared that neither of them would be getting to hide from it any longer. 

Or maybe they would. It all depended on Quinn. Rachel was ready for either decision, she just wanted it to be made.

“What does that mean?” Quinn asked on a shaky exhale.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything more than what we want it to,” Rachel said gently. “It means whatever we say it means.”

“I don’t - I can’t deal with more. It would be my fault when-” Quinn cut herself off, huffing out a breath and running a hand through her hair. “I don’t know anything except running anymore, Rachel. I don’t know how to do this, how to trust you more than I already do. I trust you more than anyone still living right now, but I don’t think I could let go of you and I don’t understand it.” Quinn swallowed and flexed her hands, fingers dragging against soft skin. “I don’t know what to do. Running sounds really good.”

Rachel shook her head and blinked back a fresh rush of hot tears. “You trust me because you know me, Quinn. You know me and I know you. More than anyone else in this whole group. Maybe in the whole world. We know each other. That’s why you trust me - because you know me.”

Quinn smiled lopsidedly, huffed a quiet rueful laugh, and pulled. Rachel shuffled forward obediently, closing her eyes when she was folded into a tentative, but warm, hug. “I know you,” Quinn whispered. “Your dramatics and your speeches and that crazy tenacity...”

“You don’t have to run anymore. Not from me,” Rachel told her, tucking her nose into the crook of Quinn’s neck. “We’re not done, but this is enough. For now. We’ll work on this together, alright?”

Quinn nodded, her cheek rubbing against the side of Rachel’s head. “Okay.”

Internally, Rachel wanted to shout and do backflips or something equally celebratory. The overwhelming feeling of joy and rightness - of success - was filling her with an energy she hadn’t felt in years. She clung to Quinn for as long as she would allow and when Quinn started to pull back she didn’t fight her. Smiling, she touched her fingers to Quinn’s chin and thought about high school for a second. About all those times she’d wanted to hug Quinn just so she would know she wasn’t so terribly alone - and now she finally had.

It felt just as good as she’d imagined it would.

“Two dramatic, broken, messed-up women trying to figure each other out. This could be fun,” she said with a laugh.

“What could possibly go wrong?” Quinn wondered, and tugged a lock of Rachel’s hair.

\---

That night, the first night in their new “home,” Quinn laid wide awake in her bed. An actual bed that was soft and had sheets, blankets, and small lumpy pillows. The sensation wasn’t new but it might as well have been after so long. 

As the ship rocked gently from side to side she could hear the waves lapping at the sides and the wind whispering past the port hole. Beside her Rachel was silent, lying curled up with her back to Quinn. Apparently they didn’t need to talk about it, because Rachel made herself right at home stripping off her shoes and jeans before crawling under the blankets. It reminded Quinn of high school Rachel. She’d cracked a small smile, watching Rachel squirm for a moment, grunt once, then sigh - most likely in bliss at having a long lost comfort returned.

But Quinn couldn’t sleep, not yet. She didn’t think Rachel was asleep either but she was too tired to attempt conversation and too awake to close her eyes.

The rocking of the ship was soothing in a distant sort of way, though it messed with her equilibrium. She thought that might be what was keeping her awake - the new environment, action of the past few days, and all the other things combining to make a thick mess of thoughts and feelings for her to try and process all at once.

She laid on her back and thought of Rachel’s words earlier, feeling a strong surge of fondness. Smiling up at the ceiling, her thoughts wandered again. From tan skin, dark hair, and brown eyes that had become so serious to pale skin, blonde curls, and blue eyes.

It was strange to think of Becca, but Quinn couldn’t help herself. The ache in her chest came back, and with it a phantom pang low in her belly.

She’d gone to see Becca earlier, as she’d promised. Found the little girl in a corner of one the conference rooms scribbling with some broken crayon pieces on the back of an old itinerary. 

It appeared that Luz, ever the go getter, hadn’t wasted any time getting to work. The conference room had been stripped of furniture, save for a couch. Mattresses had been set up on the floor and the children seemed content, making their beds and chatting with one another. The younger ones had been paired up with an older child to help with adapting and hopefully keep them from experiencing any more trauma than necessary. 

Becca had lit up at the sight of Quinn, happily shouting her name and toddling over on wobbly legs to present her a picture. 

Another pang of loss, this time chased with guilt but also accompanied by a small flutter of hope, ran through her: Becca had scribbled a picture of two stick figures. Both had yellow hair, but one was smaller and “holding the hand” of the other. The taller one held a black brick shape in its other “hand.”

“That’s me, and that’s you,” Becca had explained, bouncing on the toes of her destroyed shoes.

Rachel hadn’t said anything then either. When Quinn came back to what she supposed had become “their” room clutching the picture and near hyperventilating, she’d simply smiled, taken hold of Quinn’s wrist, and dragged her over to the wardrobe, her thumb rubbing smooth little circles against her pulse the whole time. Where she’d found duct-tape Quinn couldn’t fathom, but something had simultaneously broken and filled in when Rachel taped the picture to one of the doors. 

“You need to talk some more?” Rachel asked groggily.

Quinn shook her head and then turned over onto her side, unsurprised to find Rachel had rolled over and was staring at her. Reaching out, she took Quinn’s wrist again. 

“... Do you want me to go?”

“No. I don’t think I could sleep if you were somewhere else; I’d worry. I’m just processing.”

Rachel hummed a low note and awkwardly reached her other hand to touch her fingers between Quinn’s eyebrows. “You need to sleep, Hollywood. Give that big brain a rest.”

“What if I - what if I don’t wake up?”

“You will. I’ll wake you up.”

“When?” Quinn licked at her lips and leaned into Rachel’s exploring fingertips. “How will you know when to wake me up?”

“Internal alarm clock paired with an inability to sleep as heavily as I used to,” Rachel replied. The sheets rustled noisily as she squirmed closer. “Plus… while I admit that the idea of waking up someplace that isn’t inside the Bronco is exciting, it’s only almost as exciting as waking up to see you here.”

“What if you don’t wake up?” Quinn whispered.

“Quinn.”

“I know, we talked about this. I’m sorry.”

Rachel made an odd sort of noise that Quinn couldn’t quite place. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Then trust that I’ll be here to wake you up and that we’re going to have an adventure tomorrow. One that won’t involve the bad things we dream about.” Her thumb moved in a couple of lazy circles, and Quinn resisted sagging further into the touch. “I’m really hoping that - that this place will mean happier things to dream about.”

“The island?” Quinn sucked in a deep breath and pulled her wrist away. She hurried to grab Rachel’s hand before Rachel could think she was rejecting her offer of comfort, tangling their fingers together. “I’m trying not to make comparisons to a certain zombie film.”

“I really hate that word.”

“Are you about to make another movie reference? Be still my beating black heart.”

Rachel snorted and squeezed Quinn’s fingers. “Stop it.”

“Not the slightest bit sorry.”

“Do you think you can sleep?”

Quinn groaned. “Well now that I’m thinking about Milla Jovovich...”

“Oy vey,” Rachel laughed, charming in a sleepy sort of way. “What am I going to do with you?”

Shaking her head, Quinn smiled and pulled their hands up to rest in the valley between the pillows. “I - I have an idea.”

Rachel froze and when she spoke her voice took on a timid tone. “Oh?”

“Will - could you stay awake with me? Until I can fall asleep?”

“Yes, yes of course I can.” Rachel sighed and slid her head over on her pillow until her cheek was resting on the back of Quinn’s hand. “We can talk more, too, if you need to. Whatever you need.”

“You’re too nice to me.” Quinn huffed a mirthless laugh and tried to quiet her body down. The raw current of their contact had her stiffening, ready to leap off the mattress and flee. She couldn’t though. Even if she hadn’t voiced it, she’d made a silent promise that she would try for Rachel. It seemed the least she could do. Combating her cowardice when Rachel was trying so hard to be brave for both of them. She could do that.

She would be brave. 

Not just for Rachel.

For herself.

\---

TBC…


	4. Chapter Three

They’d gotten their sea legs after the first day and quickly became accustomed to the slow, steady roll of the waves. Quinn had even started looking forward to being rocked to sleep by it each night. It was constant, a powerful force that lulled them into slumber; it had even started to seep into her dreams. The nightmares were there, always, but as Rachel had predicted they had become few and far between.

When the nightmares did rise up from the depths of her mind she came to gasping for breath, cheeks wet - only to have those tears wiped away. Sharing her bed had been awkward at first but she was so thankful, that after so short a time someone was there. She hadn’t slept alone in years, but sharing a space - a bed - with Rachel was different. Luz, Chevy, Alex - they were her friends, but they were soldiers and they didn’t react the same way to nightmares. Their instincts were to brush them off and drive on. Rachel, who felt everything so strongly, wouldn’t dismiss any feeling. Where Luz would make a joke and move on, Rachel offered comfort and attempted to talk through things. Something Quinn didn’t know she wanted, but realized that she needed. It helped even more to be the one able to offer comfort when Rachel tossed in the throes of her own nightmares.

Quinn woke to the sun streaming through the porthole. Sighing, she blinked the sleep clear from her eyes and tilted her head on her pillow to observe her bedmate.

Rachel had proven to be exactly what Quinn had always imagined - a possessive, cover-hogging, cuddle monster. Perhaps out of concern for Quinn’s skittishness when it came to closeness even in her sleep, she hadn’t started like that. They’d woken up close but not touching beyond their hands or feet.

That hadn’t lasted long.

First it had been the spooning. Quinn had been awakened by a hand pressing against her stomach, pulling her back into the soft warmth of Rachel’s body.

That had turned into both arms wrapped around her. Slender, lean arms that wound around her waist and kept her close. Rachel’s breath stirring the hair at the back of her neck.

And then… 

Quinn reached down to move Rachel’s hand off her breast and tried to nudge Rachel’s leg from between hers. Rachel frowned, squeezing her hand and mumbling.

“Rachel?” Quinn said, stifling a laugh. “Broadway, can I have my body back?”

Rachel’s eyes opened to half mast and she groaned, rubbing her cheek against Quinn’s shoulder. “What’s it? Walkie?”

“No, but it’s morning, I have to pee, and you’re tagging second… plus I guarantee someone’s going to be knocking any minute.” Quinn sighed as Rachel slid away and reluctantly tossed back the blankets on the bed. She may have gotten used to the rocking of the ship, but the cold floor was something else entirely.

She had tiptoed halfway across the floor when there were three sharp raps against the door. Turning around she smiled at Rachel and pointed at the door. “Told you.”

“Broadway! Hollywood! Wakey, wakey! Some of us would like to sleep off our watch shift!”

\---

CJ was sea sick. Quinn shouldn’t have found it funny - but it was so absurd after everything else they’d all survived. She couldn’t help herself, even though she felt bad about laughing. The cool, collected Englishwoman could often be found swaying down the halls or clinging to the rails on the deck muttering and groaning about the “bloody ocean”.

Even more amusing was watching her try to avoid Rory. He followed her like a worried puppy, constantly asking if she was alright and wondering how he could help.

“I’m a doctor, too - remember?” He’d say, exasperated as she glared at him and refused to let him near her.

“You know,” Quinn commented, holding CJ’s dark hair as she leaned over the rail. “Rory’s kind of cute and sweet.”

“Oh, don’t you start,” CJ said, rubbing at her forehead. “Rachel’s badgering is enough.”

“I’m just saying, one friend to another, he’s quite the catch. Especially in the apocalypse pool, you know?” Quinn grinned and helped CJ turn around to sit on the deck. “That curly hair, tan skin… all those muscles. Don’t think I didn’t see you sneaking a peek when he was fishing topless the other day.”

“I am not interested in apocalyptic romance.” CJ started to shake her head, seemed to think better of it and settled on glaring at Quinn. “Smarty pants... how about we discuss your love life. It’s much more interesting than my non-existent one.”

Quinn bit her lip and looked out at the ocean to avoid the keen eyes of her friend. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

“Of course not – just you shacking up with Rachel immediately upon arrival. I mean, how could that possibly be interesting?”

“We’re not – I mean… we just sleep together.”

CJ’s eyes widened and a smirk started to curl up her mouth. Quinn clapped a hand over her mouth and shook a finger.

“Sleep as in actual sleeping, you perv. I thought Brits were only that pervy on TV.”

“Oof moornt mpfh,” CJ replied. Even with her mouth covered Quinn could see that she was smiling. She groaned, pulling her hand away.

“What?”

“I said you wound me. I had no such thoughts; I was merely going to say that some relationships start out that way. Also, it’s cute.”

“We are not cute.” Quinn shook her head and took a seat next to CJ, sighing as she stretched out her legs. “We’re not anything. We’re two people who knew each other Before and had a sort-of friendship that has turned into a bond only two such people could have.” She reached over and thumped CJ’s shoulder. “There’s nothing going on beyond that. We’re friends.”

“Who share a bed?” CJ tapped her lips. “There’s a term for that…”

“I told you, just to sleep. We’re not fuck buddies.”

“I was going to say – if you’d kindly quit interrupting me with your vicious assumptions of my character – I believe the term is denial.”

“There’s nothing to deny!” Quinn dropped her head back against the rail and winced up at the sky. “And – and even if there was something simmering it wouldn’t matter. If you’re going to avoid apocalyptic romance why would we consider it?”

CJ leaned her head over on Quinn’s shoulder and gestured at the children playing further out on the deck. “For them. For all of us, of course. It brings hope to us all to see that despite this terribleness people can still find each other. Love will keep us alive and all that.”

“I hear you making my case for me – you should give Rory a chance. He’s obviously smitten.”

“Yes, well, I’m in no mood for his advances. You two, on the other hand, you two are doing that deep staring, swooning, will-they-or-won’t-they thing. It’s maddening. Then you tease all of us with your hand holding when you think we aren’t looking and shacking up.”

“Oh my God,” Quinn said with a groan and slapped at CJ’s thigh. “Stop that. Rachel’s not even, uh, like that.”

“Like what? Human? Pretty sure she’s human. Is she a Terminator? I had some suspicions.”

Quinn laughed. “She’s human. I meant that she’s not into women.”

CJ tilted her head and peered up at Quinn. “How do you know? She seems into you.”

“She – I – she wasn’t when we were kids,” Quinn stammered, looking away again. “She chased after my boyfriend, stole him, and then made the rest of us gag with their ‘epic’ romance.”

“Hmph, but you weren’t even friends as you’ve said. How do you know? Certainly she wouldn’t have told you such sensitive information when you were frienemies.”

“She isn’t.”

“They do say that assumption makes an ass out of you,” CJ said, laughing when Quinn bounced her head against her shoulder in retaliation. “What about you?”

“I don’t care about – it’s more about the person as a whole.”

CJ nodded. “And Rachel as a whole person?”

“Yeah…” Quinn sighed and leaned her head against CJ’s. “There’s that.”

“Have you considered talking to her about it?”

“No.”

“But – “ CJ reached over and took Quinn’s hand. “You’re doing so much better and I think it’s because of her. You smile more and look, you’re not even shaking even though I’m touching you.”

“It could ruin what we have now and I need it.”

“Quinn, I’ve seen the way she looks at you. How she chases after you, follows you wherever you go. You don’t know what’s going on with her. Maybe she’s Quinnsexual.”

Quinn snorted. “Please, never say that again.”

“It would be a shame,” CJ said softly and squeezed Quinn’s hand. “An outright shame if you were forever stuck in this limbo. You’re already good together; I imagine you could be more. In this environment having someone - finding that connection is really very special and it should be celebrated.”

A door clanged open above them and Quinn glanced up to see Rachel standing on the observation deck. “I guess we’ll just wait and see.”

\---

Rachel stepped out onto the observation deck squinting over at the sun. She didn’t wait for her eyes to adjust to the glare, instead plucking her sunglasses out of the breast pocket of her plaid over-shirt and quickly putting them on. It still took her a moment to be able to make out the shapes below. She sighed as she caught sight of a familiar blonde-haired head leaned against an equally familiar dark-haired head. A pang of jealousy echoed in her gut but she ignored it. CJ and Quinn had bonded somehow, somewhere along the journey. Besides, Rachel liked CJ – she knew better than to be jealous.

That didn’t stop her from feeling that initial sting, but at least she had knowledge to soothe it.

The door groaned open behind her and she didn’t bother turning around. There was no danger from those onboard the ship.

At least she didn’t think there was. Sometimes she wondered. Andrew, in particular, had been acting strange. They were all twitchy and irritable at times, but ever since the attack by the raiders in the desert he’d been borderline explosive in temperament. She couldn’t completely blame him - he had lost an eye, after all. It was hard not to feel at fault for that. Trying to intervene between him and the others during a squabble had become difficult due to her guilt. Maybe if someone else had been on watch that night she could have prevented all the trouble. She’d know about Andrew’s aversion to being ordered around and had hoped that giving him more responsibility might make him feel part of the group. Instead she’d made him worse.

But Luz stepped outside and as threatening as she could be, Rachel knew she wasn’t a real threat. Not a looming one like Andrew might be.

“Hey,” Luz said as she leaned backwards against the railing Rachel had folded her arms on top of.

“Luz.” She sighed and turned her head just enough for a glimpse. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m here to help you.” Luz bobbed her head from side to side and arched one dark eyebrow over the lenses of her sunglasses. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Rachel repeated, raising her own eyebrow. “That sounds ominous. What do I need your help with?”

“Q.”

Rachel snapped her head fully in Luz’s direction and narrowed her eyes, even though Luz wouldn’t be able to see it. “Let me stop you right there. You think you’re big and bad but I promise you – you don’t know me; I’m a thousand times the bitch you are. Think hard about what you say next or I’ll toss you over this railing without second thought.”

“Down, Loba.” Luz laughed and shook her head. “Q’s not someone I’d ever talk shit about – unless she was present, of course.”

“Of course.” Rachel let her sneer fall into a frown and rubbed at the back of her neck. She’s not Santana, Rachel. She’s not. “I bet I know what you’re going to say, but let’s hear it in that colorful vernacular of yours.”

“Alright. You pulled a U-Haul with Quinn, and before you get your panties in a bunch let me finish.” Luz tipped her face up towards the sun and sighed, long and heavy. “Is she doing okay?”

Rachel’s frown deepened. “Why aren’t you asking her?”

“Because she lies,” Luz answered simply. “Look, I’m not pissed or whatever about you moving in together, or whatever that was. I’m generally concerned as a friend of both of you. You’ve got some strong vibes going and… it seems to have been a good thing, but I want to make sure.”

“She’s fine.” Rachel wrapped her hands around the rail and snuck a look down at Quinn. “She’s… she’s doing better. We both are.”

“Yeah, that was my next question.”

Rachel cracked a smile. “Do you have a list?”

“No.” Luz snorted. “Do I look that organized?”

“I figured the Marines would have drilled some organization skills into you,” Rachel said, ducking her head. She felt a blush rising on her cheeks. “Quinn’s fine, Luz.”

“And you?” Luz asked and Rachel could feel the burn of her stare even through the thick lenses of those intimidating sunglasses.

“I’m… trying.”

“This next question is awkward, but I’m just gonna ask it ‘cause you seem the blunt type anyway.” Luz turned away from her lazy position and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you fucking her?”

Rachel coughed, embarrassed at first, then straightening as anger replaced the discomfiture. “Excuse me? Over the railing, Luz. I mean it.”

Luz held her hands up. “No, no, not – Jesus, you think I want to hear about – no. It’s kind of a thing, you know? Some people in these situations shack up and it don’t mean anything and here at the end of the world it fucking means something. I know it would mean something to Q with her whole ‘I die inside when people touch me’ thing."

“I don’t think that’s really any of your business. Change the subject.”

“So you’re not.” Luz sighed. “That’s – well it’s not good, obviously, because you both need to get laid. The tension is making us all feel antsy. Like, I’m a little afraid I can get pregnant just looking at you two. But it’s good that you didn’t jump the shark.”

The laughter that burst from Rachel’s mouth surprised her, and Luz, too, if the sudden jerk was any indication. “You are the most peculiar person I’ve ever met. Did you really just ask if I was fucking Quinn and then say it’s good I wasn’t because it would be like when two main characters on a show got together too soon?”

“I don’t know you, you don’t know me, Loba. I’ll surprise you and you’ll surprise me.”

“Right.” Rachel relaxed against the railing again. “I wouldn’t do that to Quinn, so change the subject before my amusement gives out.”

“You’re – I – fuck this was not that awkward in my head.” Luz swiped at her mouth and then inclined her head down to where Quinn and CJ were sitting. “You’re good for her, okay? And I wanted to encourage you to keep doing what you’re doing. But you have to be patient with her. I don’t know what – I don’t know if you’re interested in her and I’m not going to ask. You know, don’t ask, don’t tell. What I will say is that Q is. She gets this look on her face when you’re around and it’s… it’s like she’s in pain. The deep kind that’ll tear you up inside if you let it.” Luz took a deep breath and then reached over to grasp Rachel’s wrist. “Be careful with her, but more importantly be careful with you.”

“I don’t know what we’re doing yet... where this is going or what it will be,” Rachel whispered and brushed her hair out of her face. “I promise you I’m being careful, for both our sakes. Right now it is what it is and it’s fine. It’s what we need right now. There are things that need to be – not fixed, but – wounds that need to scar. Everything’s still bleeding and we’ve smacked bandaids over them. That’s what it is. What we are to each other, we’re bandaids.”

Luz pushed her sunglasses up into her hair. Her hard brown eyes softened as she looked at Rachel and then she slid Rachel’s aviators down her nose until they were staring right at each other. Open and vulnerable. Rachel let her look, let her see how her eyes blurred as tears welled. It was the biggest gift she could give.

“Cariño, you’re so much more than a bandaid,” Luz whispered.

\---

That night Rachel lay awake in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She should have been exhausted after her deck watch period. Midnight to three was a bitch - which was why she’d asked for it. She didn’t envy Jed taking the shift after her. He’d explained that second watch, three to six, was the hardest night shift. When most of the mistakes were made. Her shift was the second hardest, the hour between two to three especially. With nothing to look at but the pitch black ocean and the deck lit by small lights, it was hard to stay focused, to watch for anything that could pop up. 

No one had made iceberg jokes - not after they all realized just how scary and demanding a job steering a ship at night was. 

Rachel had started to dream about the Titanic and that was enough to keep her mind sharp most nights. 

She normally fell asleep soon after her head hit the pillow, lulled into it by the rocking of the ship and Quinn’s soft, raspy breathing. Not to mention the sheer comfort of having an actual warm bed to crawl into. 

But Quinn wasn’t sleeping and neither was Rachel. She could feel Quinn’s brain turning in the dark, hear the difference in her breathing. Quinn slept with her mouth open - said it had something to do with a broken nose and the rhinoplasty; she couldn’t breathe through her nose while she slept. But Rachel couldn’t hear her breathing and that meant she was awake.

Which meant that Rachel was awake, staring at the ceiling with heavy eyes. 

“Quinn, I can feel you thinking. Are you okay?” she finally asked. 

“I’m - I’m awake. It’s like…” Quinn trailed off and Rachel heard her shifting, sheets rustling. 

Feeling eyes on her, Rachel was tempted to roll on her side and meet Quinn head on, but something else told her to stay as she was. “Like?”

“When I was little,” Quinn said after a long pause. “When I was Lucy, I ran away once. My parents didn’t pay much attention to Lucy and - I ran away because I thought then they would miss me. It was storming out and I didn’t care, I ran. I didn’t get very far. There was this fence and I was scared so I didn’t stop to wonder why the fence was different than all the others I’d seen. It was electric, but I didn’t know that so I grabbed it with my wet bare hand. That’s what I feel like right now, like there’s current flowing through my body.”

Rachel felt her nostrils flare at the mention of Quinn’s parents and little Lucy. She didn’t know much about her, just the things that Finn had mentioned. He’d told her about Lucy to help her understand Quinn better - one of the few moments between them where he’d sounded mature. He had loved Quinn before, but he’d loved her more for Lucy. Little Lucy Fabray who hadn’t had a friend in the world, whose parents scorned her. A leper like Rachel. It had been a turning point for Rachel with Quinn - she’d wanted to be her friend before she’d known, but after learning more about her past…

Her hands shook as she pushed her hair out of her face. “What happened after?”

“After?”

“After the fence. Did your parents come and find you?”

“You’re not going to -” Quinn huffed a laugh. “Coach Sylvester found me crying and burned, sitting outside her fence. She took me inside, gave me hot cocoa, and took me home after I’d spilled the whole sad story to her. She’s the one who suggested gymnastics to my parents and mentioned her cheerleading squad at McKinley.”

“You’re kidding me.” Rachel sat up on a hand and turned to look down at Quinn. She could see her faintly, smiling in the dark. “That’s how - really?”

“The beginning of the end of Lucy,” Quinn remarked softly. “Obviously the change didn’t really happen until middle school, years later. I never forgot about the weird woman with the shocking fence. When it got too bad I begged my parents to call the number of the gymnastics coach Sue had given us. Lucy was murdered and Quinn born.”

Sadness fell over Rachel, so thick and cloying that her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and she choked on her own spit. She hid her teary eyes by turning over, lying back down and resting her head against Quinn’s shoulder. Unable to speak for several seconds, she settled for wrapping an arm around Quinn and offering silent comfort. For Quinn and for Lucy, lost somewhere within. 

She licked at her lips and forced words through the lump in her throat. “W - why did Coach Sylvester have an electric fence?”

“For her dogs. She had too much property for a regular fence and didn’t want them getting out.”

“Were they rottweilers?” Rachel asked, snuggling closer into Quinn’s warmth. 

“Mutts, rescued from the shelter.”

Rachel groaned and knocked her head on Quinn’s shoulder. “God save me, I’m starting to like Coach Sylvester.”

“She always did like rescuing strays,” Quinn murmured, hesitantly curling some of Rachel’s hair back behind her ear. 

“Why do you all have to have these cool hidden personalities?” Rachel wondered aloud. “I don’t have a cool hidden personality, I just showed all my cards all the time.”

“You didn’t need a hidden personality to be cool, it came naturally,” Quinn said. “Think about it. You’re so cool that you… well look where you are. Who you are.”

Not knowing what to say to that, Rachel slid up the bed and laid her head on Quinn’s pillow. Their foreheads touched and Quinn’s face was so close.

So close.

Rachel smiled and ran her fingertips down Quinn’s nose, along a cheekbone. The urge was there, to go bold or go home, to close the scant distance and try the barest of a kiss. 

Instead she closed her eyes and curled her hand into the crook of Quinn’s neck, thumb rubbing against the lump of Quinn’s collarbone. “I wish I’d known you then.”

“Me, too,” Quinn murmured and rolled over onto her back. “Rachel?”

“Yes?” Rachel hummed and scooted up against Quinn’s side again. She could feel the tremble in Quinn’s body. 

“Can we talk more about Lucy? Later, I mean.”

Her eyes almost opened, but Rachel managed to keep them closed and nodded. “We can - I would love to hear more about you.”

Quinn’s breath hitched, her heartbeat stuttering under Rachel’s ear, but then she sighed, sagging into the mattress and the tension that Rachel had felt slipped away. 

“Can you sleep?” Rachel asked groggily. Counting the beats of Quinn’s heart in combination with the rocking of the ship and the warmth of the bed had sapped her energy.

“I think so.” 

Rachel stayed awake, listening intently for Quinn to drop off first. When she heard Quinn start to breathe through her mouth she cracked an eye open. Quinn’s head was facing her, her lips parted and eyes closed. It was cheating, but Rachel couldn’t help but lean in and brush a kiss to Quinn’s hairline. 

She’d steal all the moments she could until she could pay them back in full.

Quinn made a soft sound at the contact, a cross between a whimper and a sigh. Rachel smiled and wiped her eyes on her shoulder. 

One more bandaid was on its way to being applied, and even though it was an old wound and deep cut, she hoped it would work. 

She would do her damndest to make sure it would work.

“Goodnight, Lucy.”

\---

TBC…


	5. Chapter Four

The lazy idle they’d all fallen into lasted only a few days, and Quinn’s warning that Mother Nature could be a bitch had gone to the back of Rachel’s mind. Everything seemed too good to be true – too wonderful for her to remember that they were at the mercy of a force so much stronger than they.

When the storm hit them Rachel was reminded once again of who the actual boss was; Mother Nature was punishing them for getting too comfortable, too fast.

The sky turned nearly black as thunder rumbled, lightning lighting up the endless sea of rolling waves. Rain fell, not in gentle spatters, but in torrents. It flew sideways, carried by the wind in freezing sheets of huge droplets that soaked them all to the bone.

They’d all been sitting outside on the deck enjoying some time off with the kids chattering and squealing excitedly nearby under Luz’s watchful eyes, until the clouds opened and the rain started to pelt. 

Rachel hadn’t had to say a thing; they all jumped to their feet and herded the kids indoors just as the first kick of the ship threatened to topple them all like dominoes.

“Damn, who pissed Poseidon off?” Chevy wondered, shoving Luz ahead of him through the door on the main deck.

“Probably you with that stupid mermaid comment,” Luz shot back, shaking her dripping hands in his face. “Why you got to piss off the Sea God? I wasn’t enough for you anymore?”

Rachel rolled her eyes at their familiar bickering and smiled over at Quinn who was wringing out her hair. Glancing around at all the faces crammed into the corridor, she took a quick head count, relieved when she saw no other damage than everyone appearing drenched and cold. They might all be raiding the kitchen for tea later, but she was pleased that nothing worse had happened.

Looking back out at the deck, she watched a wave crash over the side as the ship lurched under them. Her smile fell and her stomach dropped, nausea threatening, and it had nothing to do with the canting of the ship.

“Rachel?” Quinn said with concern clear in her tone. Rachel ignored her, shaking her head and refocusing outside to see if what she thought she’d seen was really there.

She didn’t mistake it a second time. A tiny shape - just a speck of dark color - was still out there.

There wasn’t time to do anything other than act. She darted forward, pushing Chevy out of the way without apology and running as fast as she could on the tilting ship. Her feet were slipping on the slick deck as waves pushed her down and tried to drag her away. She struggled to get up after each blow, teeth chattering already and body weak with the cold and exertion it took to move a few steps.

As she got closer and saw just what - no, who - the shape was her throat clogged in fear.

Skyler was crying, his foot wedged in a gap on the deck. Rachel could see how pale he was, how blue his lips had gone. Tugging at his leg with both hands, his screams were swallowed up by the boom of thunder and rush of water over his head.

The ship pitched under her as Rachel dove the remaining distance. She’d barely managed to get her hands on Skyler before water rushed over the side again, slamming into them. Twisting as best she could, she tried to shield him as the wave drove them back into the unforgiving metal ridge jutting up from the deck. A rough cry tore from her throat as she landed on her shoulder with a sickening pop. Burning pain ripped through her as freezing water battered them again and again. Wave after wave smacked them down, holding them captive.

Gritting her teeth, she fought to get her body wrapped more fully around the little life that clung to her. All she could see was water exploding around them like a frozen volcanic eruption. Skyler’s blue eyes were wide in his pallid face; he looked up at her, mop of brown hair plastered to his head, and pulled at her shirt desperately. She was already shivering just as hard as he was. Her face, fingers, and feet had gone numb but her legs and arms still felt the bite of the ocean. Another wave covered them, threatening to drag them free of their precarious position hunched low against the deck. Rachel choked, barely managing to drag in a fire-laced breath before she was smothered again. Beneath her shaking legs the ship bucked and seemed to twist almost upside down.

She pulled at Skyler’s leg with all her remaining strength and when that didn’t work she tried to get his shoe off, but between the water filling her vision and uncooperative fingers…

Closing her eyes, she hugged him close and wondered how long it would take before they found themselves overboard.

\---

Quinn rushed forward, a shout caught in the back of her throat, but Chevy grabbed her arm before she could follow Rachel out into the storm.

“Are you crazy?” he barked, fingers like steel around her forearm.

“Let go! They’ll be swept overboard!”

Luz grabbed her other arm and together they yanked her backwards, feet coming off the deck for a brief second with the force of their pull. “Q, you’ll join them if you go out there.”

“I can’t just – let go of me! I can’t let them stay -- they’ll die.” Quinn shoved Luz off of her and took a swing at Chevy. “Get the fuck off of me!”

“Knock it off!” Chevy ordered, roughly grabbing both her arms and giving her a shake. “Think. Think, Hollywood, and use that big brain of yours so we can rescue them.”

There was no time to cry, no matter how she wanted to sink to her knees to scream and sob Rachel’s name. It wouldn’t save her or bring her back safely. “She just…”

“Ollie, go get Rory and CJ,” Luz snapped, staring hard out at the deck and the two tiny figures they could see hunkered down when the waves swept back. “Alex, we need rope or something like it. We’ll tie it off and then one of us will have to go out there.”

Quinn shook her head, sucked in a deep breath and then glared at Chevy. “Let go of me or I’ll knee you so hard in the balls you’ll taste them.”

He released her slowly, eyeing her warily. She had no intention of bolting out yet, not without the rope, but it didn’t keep her from feeling the flood of adrenaline. Every muscle in her body screamed along with her mind, “Get out there. Go get her. Why are you still standing here?”

Alex came running back, a thick bundle of rope looped over his shoulder. Quinn lunged forward and grabbed it from him before Chevy could.

“Q, no, I’ll go. I’m bigger, heavier, and trained for - “

“Either help me tie this rope or shut the fuck up,” she said, hands fumbling with the harsh braid. “Actually, do both. I don’t care – I’m going. Try and stop me and see what happens.”

“Quinn, he has a better chance of bringing them back safely,” Luz said, so cautiously that Quinn bristled.

“Chevy is heavier, Alex is stronger, and what we have a better chance of is building an anchor strong enough to pull us all back. I’m bigger than you, Lu, so I have the better chance of getting out to them without being knocked over. You wanted me to use my brain. Now would you all stop wasting time we don’t have arguing with me and tie this goddamn rope properly?” With that outburst Quinn stiffened, stilled the shaking of her muscles, and smoothed her face into the blank expression she’d worn so effortlessly in high school.

Chevy, Alex, and Luz shared glances and then leapt into action. Alex untangled the rope, handing off a section to Luz, and together they started looping it around Quinn. It dug into her shoulders and waist, shooting pain through her joints, but Quinn ignored it and kept her face vacant, repeating the old mantra in her head: “You feel nothing. You are cold. You are steel. Everything bounces off of your armor and nobody can touch you.”

Luz tugged on the rope. “Okay, this will hold. Take this extra section, loop it around them, and tie it back to this part.” She tapped at the section belted tight around her waist. “That should keep you all attached. When you get them secured tug twice - hard - and we’ll start pulling. You’re still going to have to come back on your own steam as much as you can. If we do all the pulling just stay upright, okay?”

She nodded once and without another word launched herself out into the squall. It felt like she’d jumped from an airplane. That moment of terror, of uncertainty laced with a generous dose of adrenaline. But unlike the times she’d gone skydiving there were no clouds or blue sky, and the rush was different. She had a mission to accomplish; it wasn’t for fun and she had to focus.

Under her scrabbling feet the deck jumped and groaned. The whole world tilted on its axis and she crashed to her knees. She felt like a dog on linoleum floors the first time. Her hands slipped and slapped at the deck searching for purchase as waves dropped onto her. She could barely breathe; every pant for air drew more water into her mouth. Coughing and choking she crawled, ran, and stumbled towards her goal, eyes focused on the ball of soaked plaid and dark hair.

“Rachel!” She shouted raggedly and gasped for another gulp of salty air.

Rachel jerked her head around, hair matted and obscuring most of her face. Quinn saw how one arm was hanging from her shoulder joint, the other holding tight to a raised part of the deck with the small boy trapped between Rachel’s body and the lip.

Quinn lurched forward only to flatten herself as another wave came down on her head, and she felt her body starting to slide down the deck towards the railing and the ocean beyond. She bit down on her lip until she tasted the iron of her own blood, eyes locked on Rachel’s. Rachel said something; Quinn saw her lips moving but couldn’t hear anything over the roar of the sea.

Another push of adrenaline had her slamming her hands down on the deck, numb palms breaking out in painful tingles. She half crawled, half threw herself forward, sliding the rest of the way in to Rachel. Their heads cracked together and the world spun a little crazier. Rachel let out a small sound, shaking her head at the impact. Quinn looked down and saw the boy’s - Skyler she recognized - foot caught. Reachin in with both hands, she grabbed his foot and yanked. Water sluiced around them, the sound like a roar. The wind sliced through her sodden clothes and thunder rumbled overhead.

Skyler’s foot came free with a soggy plop.

Rachel sagged against her, but Quinn knew they didn’t have time to sit in any sort of relief. She quickly wrapped the rope around Skyler’s waist, securing him tight against her, and then tied the extra to Rachel, sliding the end through a belt loop and knotting it with shaking fingers.

With none of them holding on any longer, the next wave that hit succeeded in dragging them towards the dark abyss. Quinn’s back collided with the railing, Skyler smashed into her front, forcing all the air from her lungs and then Rachel hurtled into both of them and nearly drove them over the edge. Quinn wrapped her arm around the railing, locking it in place as she’d done countless times in gymnastics. With her free hand she grabbed the rope stretching out towards the door and tugged once, then again as hard as she could.

Immediately the rope went taught, the pull at her waist agonizing as the bristles dug through her shirt and into her skin. The burn helped her focus. Her thoughts felt scattered. It was difficult to concentrate on anything and she was so tired. Her bones ached, her back felt broken, and her legs felt like they’d been cemented to the deck.

They couldn’t stay there.

Quinn dropped to the deck on all fours, Skyler clinging to her belly like a baby monkey, and Rachel limp at Quinn’s side. “Rachel,” Quinn shouted. “Rachel, we have to crawl. Stay low!”

They inched forward, dropping back to the slippery deck with each blast of water. Three of Quinn’s fingernails were torn free trying to dig for purchase and Rachel fell several times, one arm dangling uselessly. But the rope kept taught, the pressure unbearably holding them more or less in place.

She didn’t know how long it took, but finally they collapsed right outside the door and then hands that burned with warmth grabbed her under the arms and dragged her inside.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” someone was chanting. Quinn tried to see but her eyes were blurred and her eyelids didn’t want to open wide enough to see past a wobbly sliver.

“They’re blue. They’re not supposed to be blue,” another voice squeaked. Ollie. “This is not good.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Quinn recognized Luz’s snarl and tried to get her bobbing head to loll in Luz’s direction.

“Help,” she rasped.

“Shit,” CJ said, sounding eloquent even as she swore. Quinn felt hands on her cheeks and then tugging at the ropes. “Get this off them. Now!”

More hands and harder tugging. Skyler was pulled away and Quinn heard Rachel mumbling incoherently next to her.

“I’ve got him, you two come with me. CJ…”

“Go,” CJ ordered and then Quinn was being lifted. The world dimmed, lights faded away, sounds became muffled and distant.

At least the darkness seemed warm.

\---

At first she thought she’d gone blind. Her eyes were stuck, lashes glued together. She was shivering and soaked to the bone, her clothes sticking to her skin. Any sort of movement pulled at her. Quinn’s teeth chattered together as her body jerked and trembled. Finally she got her eyes to open and they went in and out of focus as she blinked at the three blurry shapes crowded above her face.

“Quinn? Quinn, can you hear me?” CJ asked, tapping at Quinn’s cheeks.

“Hmmm,” Quinn groaned. “Wh-ere – whererer – Rrr – ach- erl.”

“Hypothermia,” CJ said, almost gasped. “Fuck, fucking hell.”

“Doesn’t that take hours?” Luz asked, and Quinn could just make her out, hovering overhead.

“No. Chevy, get as many blankets as you can find and make sure Rory has some. Luz, help me strip them.”

Quinn frowned as best she could. “N-no. ‘m f-f-fine.” She tried to sit up and was pushed gently back down onto what she realized was a mattress.

“Quinn, listen to me. We have to get you two warmed up and I can’t do it too fast. This has to happen, alright? I promise we’ll be discreet.”

Too weak to struggle, Quinn laid still, bones rattling with the strength of the shudders wracking her as her clothing was peeled off. She heard Luz swearing under her breath and turned her head to see Rachel, dark hair curled in long dripping tendrils along her face and neck. Her eyes were closed, blue lips parted and breath wheezing past them shallowly.

“We need to wake Rachel up and keep her awake,” CJ said, her palms hot as she cupped Quinn’s cheeks. “Quinn, talk to me.”

“I won’ ru-un aw-w-ay ag’in, I prom…ise,” Quinn mumbled, blinking slowly, trying to clear her eyes so she could see Rachel properly. “Where ‘m I?”

“You’re on a ship, remember? You didn’t run away, sweetheart, you did something very brave and saved Rachel and that little boy.”

“Loba, hey!” Luz yelled, harshly smacking her hand against Rachel’s cheek. “Despierta, perra. Wake the fuck up and tell me what a shithead I am.”

“Dooon’ hit Ra…” Quinn squeezed her eyes shut and struggled to get her lungs to work.

“Yo! Rachel Berry, don’t make me kick your ass,” Luz said and shook Rachel. “Quit being lazy, hero! Wake up before you scare Quinn. She already looks like a ghost.”

A scratchy blanket was pulled up over Quinn and she started to giggle as CJ crawled on top of her. “Now i’s a parrr-tay.”

Rachel moaned and tossed her head. “B’rbra ‘s stealin’ m ‘ward.”

“What is wrong with them? They’re drunk,” Luz said, copying CJ and plastering herself over Rachel.

“Just get them warm.” CJ stretched over to touch her fingers to Rachel’s neck. “They’ll come around. Keep her talking.”

“Who’s Barbra and why is she stealing your award?”

Rachel’s eyes flew open and Quinn gasped. “Rachel!”

“D-don’ speck ‘bout Babs.” Rachel growled, the sound gurgling wetly. She jerked and her eyes widened. “’m naked.”

Chevy came running back into the room, blankets piled high in his arms. He stopped short of the bed and Quinn giggled again.

“Extra blankets,” he said, dropping the pile.

CJ slid off of Quinn and pulled Luz up as well. “Quinn, can you hold Rachel, warm her up? She’s very cold.”

“’kk-ay,” Quinn mumbled and rolled over. Her arms moved sluggishly but she eventually got them around Rachel, pulling until they were resting more or less on each other. Clarity was slowly starting to return and with it the pain of just how cold she was. “Fffuck.”

“Agreed,” Luz said as she unfurled blanket after blanket on top of them.

“Rachel’s worse off,” Quinn heard CJ whispering. “Can you get something hot, even hot water, from the galley? I’ve got to get her temperature up.”

“Yeah, and Rory gave me some water bottles, too. I’ll get those filled up.”

“The boy?”

“Rough shape, but Rory thinks he’ll make it.”

“Good.”

“Hey, Doc?” Luz called. “I think Rachel’s shoulder is dislocated.”

CJ’s face appeared again, leaning over them. Quinn saw her frown and did so as well, hands clutching tighter to Rachel’s back, the pronounced bumps of her spine pressing against Quinn’s palms.

“The immediate danger is the cold; I’ll have to reset it but I want her temperature up first.”

“Quinn,” Rachel whispered, a shaking fist pushing against Quinn’s belly button. “Wh’ts happpppen?”

“Cold,” Quinn answered simply, brain too foggy for anything else. “You – why did – you almos’ died.”

Rachel’s shivering seemed to gain intensity, her teeth clicking together noisily and her hand flexing and clenching over and over against Quinn’s stomach. “C-can’ have you-you up st-t-aging me all th’ time.”

Luz laughed. “I think she’s going to be okay, Doc.”

Quinn rubbed her hands up and down Rachel’s back, feeling the muscles quiver and quake. “Sorry.”

“Mmm, why?” Rachel’s eyelids drooped.

“Naked,” Quinn said, shivering again as awareness of that fact hit her. She could feel every inch of Rachel’s cold, wet skin. They’d been sharing a bed, pressed close, but she’d never stopped to process. Rachel was so thin. Without clothes Quinn realized that she could count Rachel’s ribs, feel them every time Rachel breathed in and her chest expanded. Even her hip bones felt sharp, pressing against Quinn. She wasn’t much more than sinewy muscle and bone. “You’re too skinny.”

“’s okay,” Rachel stuttered, trembling lips forming a thin line. She hummed again and snuggled closer, nose against Quinn’s throat. “Sky?”

“He’s going to be okay,” CJ answered, reaching over Quinn to push Rachel’s sopping hair out of her face.   
“Luz, can you see if you can find beanies or something to put over their heads?”

“Yeah.”

“Arm hurts.” Rachel whimpered, her warm, moist breath brushing against Quinn’s neck. “Broken?”

“I think it’s dislocated,” CJ said, curling up behind Rachel carefully. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but the fact that you’re feeling pain is a good sign.”

“Don’ cut it off,” Rachel said, her words running together in a garbled mess.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” CJ prodded at the arm in question. “I’ll put it back in place soon. You’ll have to wear a sling.”

“Still works?”

Quinn looked up at CJ and saw her smile. “It’ll work. Trust me, I’m a doctor.”

“British doctor,” Rachel grumbled and sighed shakily.

“Astute observation, and I’m having déjà vu. I see that you and Quinn share the same perception of my kinsmen. How terrible.”

“She’s got good teeth though,” Quinn slurred.

CJ rolled her eyes. “Such abuse for the woman trying to save your lives.”

“You started it,” Rachel said.

“I beg your pardon!”

“It’s the accent, makes her sound snooty,” Luz said, coming back into the room. Something itchy was shoved down over Quinn’s head and ears. She jerked her head back and Luz winked at her before putting another obnoxiously orange colored beanie over Rachel’s head. “There, now you’re clothed… sort of.”

Luz pushed gently at Quinn’s shoulder and squeezed in behind her. Quinn could feel the heat coming off of her, even though the layers of blankets, and shuddered anew at the sensation.

“Hey, Q?”

“Mmph?”

“I just wanted to say that was all very Éowyn of you. The rushing out into danger and leaving the men behind.”

Quinn smiled. “Nerd.”

They all turned their heads when Chevy came clomping back into the room. Except for Rachel, who only grunted and nuzzled closer to Quinn.

“Is this an all girl party or can anybody join?” He asked, eyebrow arching. He didn’t wait for a response, but quickly shoved two water bottles under the blankets at the foot of the bed. Quinn hissed at the sensation, the water bottles feeling like lava against her bare feet, and Rachel groaned lowly.

“There were some old cider packets in the galley. I don’t know if that’ll work or not.” He held out a mug towards CJ, steam rising from it.

“The fun part, I’m afraid,” CJ said, sitting up and taking it from him. “Luz, I’ll need your help. Chevy you can go, I don’t think they want you to see this next part.”

“Ah, yeah, I’ll just go help with Skyler,” Chevy said, retreating.

Quinn watched CJ and gnawed on her bottom lip. Rachel trembled and whined when Luz started to move her.

“Sorry, Loba, let’s get you sat up.”

“Lean her back against me,” CJ instructed. She smiled faintly at Quinn when Rachel was nestled back against her. “Quinn, you can help. Talk to her.”

Rachel’s head fell back against CJ’s shoulder, her dislocated arm protruding awkwardly.

“Broadway,” Quinn rasped and took Rachel’s good hand in her own. “Rachel… you sang that song to Finn, right? Only to Finn?”

Brown eyes popped open again, went wide and then closed to half way. Rachel winced as CJ raised the hot mug to her lips.

“Small sip,” CJ coaxed.

“N-no, I lied,” Rachel whispered after she’d done as told. She coughed and let out a strangled sound when CJ moved her arm. Luz took the mug from CJ, pressing it against Quinn’s lips.

“You heard the lady, Q.”

Quinn took a sip, eyes locked onto Rachel’s scrunched up face. “I was going to stop you.”

“I knew,” Rachel said, squeezing Quinn’s fingers.

CJ pulled Rachel’s legs up, knees to her chest, and gently untangled Rachel’s fingers from Quinn’s. “Sorry. Rachel, put your hands over your knees. Lace your fingers together, thumbs pointing up.”

Rachel’s breathing went ragged again.

“Look at me,” Quinn urged. “Look at me.”

“Luz, put pressure over her hands.”

Rachel stared at Quinn, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes.

“This is going to hurt,” CJ warned.

“Look at me,” Quinn repeated. “Don’t look away.”

Slowly, CJ started to lean backwards. Rachel’s mouth fell open and the sound of her panting and little whimpers filled the room. Quinn’s eyes burned as she watched, but she smiled at Rachel who was still staring at her so trustingly.

Then her shoulder cracked back into place, Rachel’s hoarse scream bouncing off the walls of the room. CJ clutched Rachel as she went limp again.

“All better,” CJ said, stroking her fingers over Rachel’s cap. “You’re alright. It’s alright now.”

Rachel groaned. “Ow.”

Luz laughed again, lightly, and handed the mug back to CJ. Rachel took another puny sip and even cupped CJ’s hands against the mug. CJ let her take a couple more and then eased her back down onto the mattress.

Quinn moved forward immediately, pulling Rachel right back against her. “I’ve no idea how to top that,” she commented and sighed.

“Don’t even think about it,” Rachel said. “No more heroics, I’m done.”

“Liar.”

Quinn felt Rachel smile against her skin. “Takes one to know one.”

“The least romantic pillow talk I’ve ever heard in my life,” CJ said, grinning when Quinn glared at her. “What? One of us has to be honest with you two self proclaimed liars around.”

“Hear, hear,” Luz said.

Rachel laughed feebly and tangled her chilled feet with Quinn’s. “Hecklers.”

\---

TBC…


	6. Chapter 5

“Of all the insufferable… lie still!” CJ huffed and gently pushed Rachel back against her pillow. Brown eyes flashed in annoyance and Rachel’s jaw worked back and forth. CJ nodded her head, fighting back a smile. “There. Now stay.”

It had to be killing Rachel, not being able to speak. Probably more than the sling. But CJ felt it was a small blessing. She’d dealt with more than her fair share of obstinate patients over the years Before, but most of them had been able to speak. Or shriek in protest.

On the other side of the room Quinn chuckled to herself as she continued to make up the couch. CJ shot her a look and rolled her eyes. “You know, I distinctly remember telling you to bunk elsewhere until Miss Berry was feeling better. The couch is not going to save you from the germs.”

“I got a second opinion.”

CJ whirled around to deliver her most scathing death glare. “Rory told you-!”

“No.” Quinn held up a hand. “It was my opinion and it trumps yours in this case. I’m not leaving her in here alone and sick.”

“Quinn,” Rachel said in a barely there raspy whisper. CJ winced and redirected the glare. She was ignored. “You don’t stop hovering and I’m going to make helicopter noises when I see you.”

“Quib? Who’s Quib? Rachel, do you have an imaginary friend?” Quinn grinned. “How cute.”

Having used what little voice she’d saved, Rachel merely growled and reached her good hand out of the blanket like Darth Vader attempting his notorious choke hold from afar. CJ, exasperated with the pair of them, caught her wrist and pressed her hand back to the bed.

“None of that now.” She tsked and shot Quinn a sterner look. “She doesn’t seem to be getting worse, but you don’t need to go pushing the boundaries. Rest means sleep and not attempted murder. Quinn, don’t antagonize her; she needs to rest that voice, too.”

“I was distracting her from you,” Quinn said with a sly smile. CJ would have bought it if it weren’t for the tiny tremble at the corner of Quinn’s mouth.

“You really shouldn’t be in here,” CJ gently reminded her. “She could get you sick – we don’t need another epidemic in this apocalypse. One per is more than enough, thank you.”

Quinn snorted but looked away, one hand rubbing at the back of her neck. “It’s not the same thing.”

CJ had an argument ready, a winning one, too. But then she caught Rachel’s expression and bit her tongue. Rachel was watching Quinn with a small, almost secretive smile.

“Fine then. Ignore me. Just don’t expect my bedside manner to improve if you fall ill as well.” She sat back and inclined her head at Rachel. “Now, I think it’s time to get some more broth into this one.”

Rachel shook her head rapidly.

“You know, in France, a good bouillabaisse would be quite costly.” CJ grinned and tried not to laugh as Rachel almost turned green in front of her.

“Pretty sure it wasn’t just hot fish juice,” Quinn remarked.

Rachel nodded and leaned over to grab the nearby pen. She scribbled into her own palm and held it up for CJ to read.

“My mouth tastes like fish and that is not a good thing,” CJ read aloud and smirked. “How horrible for you. Do you have a date or someone you intend on kissing?”

She felt Quinn glaring at the side of her head. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m hilarious; it’s just that most Americans don’t understand or appreciate English humor. It’s a little above them, I’m afraid.”

Quinn snorted again and Rachel glared, bloodshot eyes boring into CJ.

“What was that you said about antagonizing her?”

“Right you are,” CJ agreed with a nod. “My sincerest of apologies.”

Rachel shook her head, more slowly than before, but smiled when she rolled her eyes.

“You’re still drinking your medicine though.”

A face was pulled and Quinn laughed lightly at the pouty expression. She reached over to ruffle Rachel’s hair.

CJ barely kept from shaking her head when she caught Quinn tracing the curve of Rachel’s ear as she tucked some hair back behind it. It was a bit like being caught in a ridiculous drama of some sort. Will they or won’t they? She’d never had much patience for such things and watching it play out in front of her was ten times worse.

“Well then,” she said, clearing her throat. “Q, I believe you are due on the bridge and I must escort my patient to the galley.”

“She’s not supposed to be out of bed per her annoying doctor,” Quinn quipped.

Rachel pouted pathetically in the bed. CJ took that to be a good sign -- a whining, pouting patient was a patient that felt better.

“I’ll have to speak with that ghastly woman.” CJ kept her face straight and turned to Quinn. “The nerve of some of these doctors, you’d think they practiced medicine and were good at their jobs or something. Absolutely awful.”

Rachel grumbled and CJ stood from the bed. “I think some fresh air might do you some good, or at least wear you out enough that you’ll sleep more comfortably. That’ll teach that devil woman a thing or two about doctoring.”

\---

Rachel tried not to be sullen as she walked with CJ towards the gallow – galley. But the closer they drew to their destination the more she could remember of the smell and taste of the fish broth that awaited her. Her usual tricks were not working. Then again her usual tricks usually also included the ability to use her voice. Just making puppy dog eyes or changing the expression on her face wasn’t working so well.

CJ hummed lightly as she held open the swinging door to the galley, and Rachel didn’t miss that knowing grin on the smug woman’s face as she passed her.

There was little to do but sit and take what was literally about to be dished out.

Didn’t mean she had to be happy about. Or pretend that it tasted better.

“I’ll just be a minute,” CJ said, pointing at the heavy metal door that led to the kitchen area. “Don’t you wander off; it won’t do the slightest bit of good. I know all of your hidey holes now.”

Rachel hmphed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I hate you” she mouthed.

“So mature. Will you be extending your tongue for me to examine next?”

There was nothing on the table to throw in protest, so Rachel slumped down further against her bench seat and glowered at nothing.

CJ paused with the door mostly open and turned to Rachel with that stupid smirk of hers. “Remember, if you rest as told you won’t have to endure my culinary skills much longer.”

Know it all. Rachel did stick her tongue out at CJ and hid a grin when she laughed and disappeared inside the modest kitchen.

With a sigh Rachel leaned her head back against the wall and frowned at the twinge in her shoulder. The damn sling was still there, holding her more or less in place. She didn’t like not having both hands more than she hated not being able to talk. It made her feel vulnerable. Even in a safe place.

A loud clang and muffled shout drew her attention. Rachel sat up straighter and cocked her head, automatically opening her mouth to call out to CJ, only to remember that she couldn’t.  
With a huff she shuffled out of the booth like seat and headed for the door.

CJ had probably splashed herself with fish juice.

Sweet justice.

“CJ?” Rachel managed to croak as she pressed the door open with her good shoulder. She stopped immediately and felt her eyes widen.

CJ was crumpled on the floor, bleeding heavily from a cut on her head. She looked up at Rachel, one pale hand clamped to her head as Andrew loomed behind her holding a heavy frying pan. 

For a moment no one moved. Rachel gaped at the whole scene. Andrew’s remaining eye kept flickering back and forth across the room. CJ just groaned.

Something must have clicked in Andrew’s brain.

“You!” He shouted, spittle flying, and dropped the frying pan. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

And then he pulled a gun from the back of his pants.

Rachel grabbed CJ, dragging her around the nearest cabinet that offered some form of cover as the gun went off multiple times, ricocheting off of various surfaces and striking the cabinet just above Rachel’s head.

“It would seem,” CJ said in a pained whisper. “That he’s angry.”

Another shot went off and Rachel heard it bounce and then froze when she heard it hit something else. Something that made a deeper, softer sound at impact.

Beside her CJ’s yelp turned into a groan.

The helpless feeling returned, swamping Rachel’s senses. CJ leaned into Rachel’s chest, her bleeding head creating a sticky dampness on Rachel’s shoulder.

Rachel felt more against her side and made the closest thing to a sound she could -- a grunt.

“It’s the side of – I think it missed anything vital,” CJ gasped.

That wasn’t all that comforting; she could still feel the heat of the blood seeping into her clothes. CJ’s breaths grew ragged and she reached her other hand down to hold her side. Rachel’s eyes were drawn to the ring, now smeared with blood, that hung in the open vee of CJ’s button down shirt.

She’d recognize an engagement ring anywhere.

Anger overrode the fear and helplessness swiftly and Rachel growled, slapping her hand to her thigh.

Only to remember she didn’t have Mick.

One hand.

No weapons.

Andrew continued to scream and rant behind them, though Rachel didn’t pay much attention to the things he was spewing. She was more concerned with counting shots in her head and wondering how much ammo he could have left in his pistol.

Peeking her head up over the top of the counter, she ducked down immediately as Andrew fired at her.

“Say something, you bitch! Tell me how it was for the greater good that I lost my eye!”

Well… you’re alive, aren’t you? Rachel thought and turned her attention back to her hostage-mate. CJ was rapidly paling, if that was possible with her pallor. Her skin look a little grey at the creases. CJ moved towards Rachel with a wince and Rachel saw the walkie sitting on her hip.

Gently, Rachel tapped CJ’s cheek, smiling tightly when hazy espresso brown eyes blinked up at her. She pointed at CJ’s hip.

“Lookit that, we’re saved.” CJ pried the device from her belt and struggled to hold it in her shaking hands. Rachel blanched watching her; she’d never seen CJ’s hands shake. Ever.

Stopping her before she could depress the talk button, Rachel held a finger to her lips and then held up two, hoping CJ would understand.

Though she appeared to be rapidly fading to unconsciousness and suffering from shock, CJ bit her lip and moved to channel 2. “Luz,” she rasped.

“I’ll kill you. I swear I’ll kill you! But first I’m going to rip your eye out of your skull! See how you like being half blind!”

It wasn’t her fault that he’d lost an eye in their skirmish with the raiders back in the desert. It wasn’t, even though she’d been the one to put him on sentinel duty that night. He was the one who’d fallen asleep at his post. She actually thought he was lucky to only be missing an eye. It could have killed him, really. And cowardly as he was she knew that eventually Andrew would get angry and brave enough to come around the corner after them. 

Weapon, weapon, I need a weapon! Rachel stretched awkwardly with her good arm and grabbed the nearest object she could.

A ladle.

It would do for a distraction. A minimal deterrent but they only needed a little more time.

She counted to three in her head and then popped up and hurled the ladle as hard as she could. It bounced off a cabinet near his head with a horrible loud noise. Her aim wasn’t any better than it had been Before. But Andrew ducked away anyway.

“Bitch!”

Back behind the barrier Rachel reached again, fingers fumbled from something with more heft. She needed to keep him occupied.

“Luz, we’re in trouble,” CJ said. “I’m shot and we’re captured.”

“What the hell are you on?”

Rachel launched a box of Arm & Hammer at Andrews face and smirked when it exploded all over him. He shrieked as it got into his eye. 

Hope it burns.

The air filled with the sound of gunfire. He wasn’t aiming at all and Rachel grabbed onto CJ, trying to shield her from any other ricocheting bullets.

Between them the walkie crackled.

“Son of a – CJ? CJ!”

Better hurry Luz, Rachel thought grimly, peeking over at Andrew again. He swiped at his eye and loaded another magazine. I’m fresh out of baking soda.

As though in answer to her prayer, it wasn’t long after that the cavalry arrived. Couldn’t have had better timing. Rachel was running dangerously low on things to throw and Andrew’s skittishness seemed to be fading.

Though he was still batshit crazy.

Outside the door Rachel picked up the sounds of arguing. Harsh whispers of voices straining to stay just shy of screaming.

She definitely recognized the loudest of the whisper-yellers.

“I don’t care! Break the door in! Shoot him in the head! Or go around back and shoot him in the head! Quit thinking and get them out of there!”

That was all Quinn.

The door eased open just a crack. Rachel looked up from CJ’s distant looking eyes and found herself nearly eye to eye with Chevy. Grimacing at him, she nodded her head down at CJ.

“Fuck,” Chevy mouthed at her.

Rachel nodded.

Andrew noticed the gap in the door.

“You all stay out! This is my kitchen! Mine! And that bitch is going to suffer for what she did to me! I used to be somebody!”

The gun went off and Rachel ticked off each one in her head. CJ whimpered and Rachel echoed the sound as she tried to tuck them both closer against the cabinet wall, jostling her shoulder in the process.

CJ would not survive another messy ricochet wound.

And Rachel really didn’t want to get shot again. Once was more than enough, thank you.

The firing died down and Rachel threw a handful of silverware without looking to see where Andrew was. It clattered noisily all over the room, but she hoped that something sharp and pointy had hit him.

Rachel shook her head when the door creaked open again. She shook it harder and widened her eyes when she saw Quinn’s worried face so close to the narrow crack.

“Rachel.”

Quinn took one look at her and CJ folded together and both liberally coated in red. Her face drained of color and then hardened. The mask that Rachel was so achingly familiar with slipped on and it chilled her to the bone.

Then something new appeared in those fearsome features. Rachel frowned when she noticed it and felt the fear return, sitting heavy in her gut. Quinn’s eyes changed somehow. Her features hardened further and Rachel could almost feel the dark intent hiding under the surface. Coupled with the dead expression on her face… Rachel knew.

She knew. Quinn didn’t have much; none of them did. But in forcing her to open up, to accept people back into her life, she’d made her vulnerable to the darkness. More loss would surely destroy what progress they’d made. If she or CJ were hurt further - if they died - Quinn’s trust would die with them.

“Don’t,” she mouthed a little desperately. “No.”

Quinn opened the door wider and Rachel almost jumped forward to slam it closed.

“You come in here and I’ll kill you! This is my business with that little rich brat!”

Visibly shaking with poorly contained rage, Quinn slid a pistol across the floor to Rachel.

Rachel snagged it and then stared hard at Quinn, hoping she could see everything she couldn’t say.

This would not end well for someone.

“Andrew!” Rachel shouted, eyes welling up with pain as her throat all but shouted back in violent protest. It felt like she’d swallowed a glass burrito wrapped in Tabasco soaked sandpaper, but she had to do something or Quinn would do something worse.

“Andrew, think about what you’re doing,” she continued, her voice running the gamut of squeaks and rasps and pitches. She swallowed, gagging at the sensation and continuing on anyway. “We rescued you, remember?”

“You lied to me! You said we’d have a better life!”

“How is this not better? You’re not on land anymore. You don’t have to worry every day about dying. We’re going to make a home. Someplace where it’s safe for everyone. Isn’t that what you want? I promise, Andrew, if you stop now we’ll take care of you.”

“I lost my eye because of you and your stupid orders! I was fine without you!”

“Then why did you agree to come with us?” Rachel winced and looked down at CJ, whose head now rested in the crook of her good arm. Her eyes had closed and her breathing was so shallow – if Rachel hadn’t been able to feel it on her skin she wouldn’t have known she was still alive.

“I was lonely and hungry!”

“Well you aren’t anymore, so why are you doing this?” she asked and tapped her fingers along CJ’s cheek, trying to get her to open her eyes. “Andrew, CJ is dying. She’s going to bleed to death and I need to get her out of here so we can save her. Will you let me do that? She didn’t do anything to you.”

Silence.

Rachel risked a glance and found him staring hard at the floor, gun swaying limp in his hand at his side.

“Fine. She can go but you can’t. But you stand up and let me see you - you’re staying here.”

The door opened and Luz glared daggers at her. “Don’t you dare,” she hissed through her teeth. Behind her she could see Ollie and Kevin arguing with Chevy and Quinn. She caught a few phrases. “You don’t have to kill him.” And “he’s one of ours, not yours.” And “Isn’t there enough death without us adding to the body count?”

“Aid-en,” CJ mumbled, her head lolling in the crook of Rachel’s arm. “Aid-en.”

Rachel’s heart just about stopped beating. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Not yet, CJ. Stay with me, please.”

“Alright, Andrew,” she called more loudly. She carefully laid CJ out on the floor, positioning her long legs so the others could grab her and pull her out. It was hard to leave her; she felt like she was abandoning her, stretched out on the floor like that without Rachel there to hold her and keep her tethered somehow in reality. Her knees creaked as she sloppily reached up her bloodstained hand and started to pull to her feet.

Her head barely crested the top of the counter before Andrew fired.

She dropped again, knees cracking against the hard floor. Dots of color flashed in her vision as agony shot up her spine.

“How does it feel?! Being asked to do something and then getting shot at for it!”

Knowing she was well and truly trapped now, Rachel closed her eyes and took several deep breaths to combat the pain. She reached out and pulled CJ back into her arms.

She almost groaned when the door opened yet again. Luz looked absolutely furious as she jabbed a finger towards the back. Craning her neck Rachel saw the back door to the kitchen Luz pointed at.

But Andrew was too close. He’d see the moment that door opened.

Peering behind Luz, Rachel saw who was missing and grit her teeth.

Of course Quinn wouldn’t let anyone else do it.

They needed a chance.

She’d have to provide it.

Biting back a scream Rachel freed her arm from the sling and used both hands to grip CJ tightly around the waist. She stood on shaking knees, CJ limp and heavy against her.

She couldn’t wobble, not even with a gun pointed at her face. Couldn’t second guess her risky decision that basically turned CJ in a human shield. It felt wrong but she didn’t have any options. Not with Quinn’s life also in the balance.

He stepped towards her with a sneer, the gun unwavering, cold and unyielding. In her hands or anyone else’s a gun didn’t care - it followed the will of the yielder.

It was hard not to look past him as Chevy and Quinn slithered into the room.

“You want to go back?” Rachel asked and shook her head. “All you had to do was ask.”

The sound of a shotgun shell being racked echoed around the metal and linoleum room. Quinn snarled as she pressed the barrel right up against the back of Andrew’s head.

“Drop it,” she bit out. “Or don’t. I’d really love the excuse.”

Andrew sagged but didn’t relinquish his grasp on the weapon. “You fucking people.”

Chevy tore the pistol away and Quinn used the shotgun to direct Andrew up against the nearest surface.

“You’re welcome, asshole,” she said.

Rachel swayed in place, vomit threatening as her stomach clenched. She knew she was going to pass out and was momentarily grateful for the arms the caught her as she fell backwards.

Distantly she heard yelling. Luz snapping Rory’s name. Quinn yelling hers. Andrew flat out screaming.

She’d never been happier for the peace and quiet of unconsciousness.

\---

Quinn stayed with Luz and the kids for the next couple of days.

Rachel hated it, almost as much as she hated herself for causing the distance. She couldn’t help but flinch when Quinn reached for her. The lightest of touches to her hand and she almost jumped out of her skin. The hurt on Quinn’s face melted away to bitter acceptance and she’d left without a word.

Two days and CJ was still lying in the small med-bay with Rory. She’d eventually be fine, by no small amount of luck.

Two days and Andrew remained in his room. A prisoner, complete with ‘round the clock guards.

Two days and the tension on board the Skylark had grown to near unbearable levels. People didn’t talk anymore, but whispered to each other. They stared at her as she passed them in the narrow halls. A divide had grown. Those that wanted Andrew “dealt with” and those that didn’t want blood on their hands.

So it fell to her, again, to decide on bloodshed.

They gathered together. Bitterman, Chevy, Luz, Quinn, Ollie, and herself. She kept looking at the door to the kitchen and shivering. Then over to where Quinn sat next to Luz, as far away as the table would allow.

Her voice had gone completely. She grabbed a pen with her good hand and scribbled a message on a small notepad, then handed it to Jed.

“We need to figure out what we’re going to do,” he read.

No one spoke for the longest time. Chevy cleared his throat and put both of his hands on the table, palms up. “Look. If he stays he’ll do something again. He’ll escalate. He’s obviously gone nuts with the stress. It was bound to happen to someone. We can’t allow him to hurt anyone else.” He pointed across at her. “You are in danger directly if we keep him around.”

“What’s next?” Luz spoke up. Her dark eyes dug right into Rachel. “He takes more of us hostage? A kid? He sabotages the ship? What the fuck are we supposed to do with him when we get to Afognak? Leave him in a cell for the rest of his life?”

Ollie growled beside her. “So you want to kill him?”

“I want to neutralize a bomb before it has the chance to kill someone.”

Rachel shook her head and looked at Quinn, who stared at her hands, face still blank.

“The world is violence now,” Jed said softly. “We’re supposed to be better than that. I will not condone an execution on my ship.”

“What about off the ship?” Quinn said, voice huskier than ever. She glanced up but didn’t look at Rachel. “He wants off the ride, so why not do that. We can take him back to land and let him have what he wants.”

“That’s the same as an execution,” Ollie argued. “He’s not a bad guy, alright? He’s just lost right now. We all are. Maybe he’ll come around; he could just need some time and some help. I thought you guys were all about leaving no man behind.”

“Not when that man is a danger to innocent or helpless people. He almost killed CJ and he definitely would have killed Rachel.” Chevy shrugged. “What do you do when an animal has no quality of life left? You do the humane thing. That’s what we’re talking about. I like Quinn’s idea though. Maybe we don’t put him down, but we give him what he wants and maybe then he’ll be happier.”

“What if he comes across some other survivors out there?” Ollie asked with a sneer. “If he’s this crazy and this bad, what if he goes after them? We’re responsible for that, too.”

Rachel dipped her head lower still and scribbled against her notepad once more. She handed it off to Jed, ignoring how the booklet shook in her grasp.

“Whatever we decide we are responsible for the outcome. Outright killing him is off the table. The choice is either to remove him from the ship or take him with us in the hopes of rehabilitation.”

“It’s the same thing, Rachel. We’re killing him if we take him off this ship.” Ollie touched her hand and she recoiled, shaking her head.

“If he stays I won’t,” Quinn said. She finally looked directly at Rachel. “I can’t sit here waiting for him to go after you again. He does it again and I’ll kill him and I know that’s not what anyone wants.”

Rachel’s throat seized, a wheezy whimper passing her lips. “Quinn,” she almost said. It sounded like a de-barked dog desperately trying to make a sound.

“I can’t.” Quinn’s eyes welled up and looked away again. “Please don’t ask me to.”

“A vote then,” Jed said. “Those in favor of taking Andrew off the ship?”

\---

Rachel didn’t know how long she’d been sitting on the bridge. At some point she’d gone completely numb.

Or maybe she had been since that last glimpse of Andrew, standing on the roof, defiant. Like he’d done the right thing and they were too stupid to see it. Stubborn to the last.

But she’d seen the fear in his eyes in the second of hesitation before he jumped from the Sea Stallion.

He knew.

They let him go anyway.

Who was the villain?

Two more days had gone by and she felt like she’d failed. She’d failed him and everyone else on board. Used a friend as a shield while she bled out slowly, trusting in Rachel to keep them safe. She’d left a man to die after rescuing him earlier.

She might as well have executed him.

The filthy taste of guilt in her mouth left her stomach in knots. Questions kept surfacing, dragging her attention away, pulling her under. She couldn’t see the surface through them.

There were no answers in sight. Nothing seemed clear anymore.

Over and over she kept wondering… what had they done?

What had she done?

Rory had offered to take her shift on the bridge but she couldn’t bring herself to accept. Not now.  
How could she deserve to rest with CJ so damaged and Andrew left behind?

Her fault came with the burden of leadership. Leadership that she hadn’t asked for or ever dreamed of wanting. It was thrust upon her without consent and she’d been helpless. No matter how she fought it the others still looked to her. She had to be the compass, the decision maker. The wise one who knew what to do.

She was supposed to have the answers and now she didn’t even have one for herself.

She missed Quinn. But those eyes that she dreamt of, they were different now. They’d been filled with death and judgment earlier and she couldn’t get them out of her head. She wanted her Quinn back, the one who looked at her with that shy smile and held her hand so gently.

The usual comfort she’d found in the safe haven of ‘their’ room with that anchored bed and the warm body in it hadn’t been there. She’d laid there in silence and felt the weight of it trying to crush her. The bed had been nothing more than a sink hole, quicksand. Without Quinn, strong and alive beside her, it had felt more like a rock holding her in place.

A dark place.

It felt wrong.

Rachel shivered in the captain’s chair and looked out the windows at the pitch black beyond the bow.

She heard the door open, had no idea how long she’d been staring sightlessly out the window, and didn’t turn.

The footsteps were heavy and dragging. Not with disease, but with sleep.

Only one person would come after her.

Of course it would be Quinn -- they were so often mirrors. It had been Rachel following after Quinn for so long Before and now she was the one seeking her out.

“Rachel.” Quinn stopped just shy of the chair.

“It’s so dark and cold,” Rachel responded, still focused on the world outside. Her voice had come back a smoky whisper, but she felt like she was shouting in the small room. “Endless dark and cold.”

Warm fingers curled under her chin and Rachel didn’t fight when Quinn pulled ever so gently. Her eyes finally slid away from all the black and she found murky green instead.

Quinn’s eyes were wet, shimmering in the dull light. “Rachel.”

“Why do we keep going, Quinn?” Rachel whispered, searching for an answer in Quinn’s face. “It only gets darker as we keep on. Look at it -- deep, dangerous. Nothing is clear or bright. Where can we go?”

The bright smile that Rachel coveted didn’t appear. Quinn tilted her head and the smile she offered was sad and small. “I’ll show you. C’mere.”

Again, Rachel didn’t resist. She slipped near boneless from her seat and right into Quinn’s arms. If she stole the hug or it was offered, she couldn’t tell, but the burn in her throat intensified and her eyes blurred. She leaned into Quinn’s shoulder and breathed deep, hoping to find that peace again. Had she unleashed the monster in Quinn? Would her Quinn, the one digging herself out of a pit of despair, ever come back fully? Had the fear of loss come back stronger than ever?

The memory of Quinn’s face twisted in fury came to her. She shuddered and sank deeper, silently pleading for something to replace it. “You scared me,” she admitted to the warm skin of Quinn’s collarbone.

“I know I did. I’m sorry.” Quinn rubbed a hand up and down Rachel’s spine, lighting up the nerves. Rachel’s back tingled in the wake of the soft touch. “I’m so sorry. I’ve – we’ve lost so much and I realized… Rachel, it scared me too. To know that I’d kill for you. I never meant to scare you, but I just can’t lose you, too. These last few days have been torture.”

“I’d die for you.” Rachel closed her eyes, let the tears free, and clung tighter to Quinn’s hips. “You’d kill for me and I’d die for you.”

They didn’t speak for several long moments. The ship swayed under them, and it almost felt like they were dancing, pressed close and listening to heartbeats and breaths.

Finally, Quinn pulled away, but slow and not far. She ducked her head and nudged until Rachel opened her eyes again.

“Look outside,” Quinn said. “Let me show you.”

Rachel touched a damp tear track on Quinn’s flushed cheek and then dutifully turned back to the bleakness. Quinn’s arms tightened.

“What am I looking for, Quinn? What am I missing?”

“You see the sea.” Quinn’s breath tickled the hair around Rachel’s ear, she could almost feel her lips on the skin she was so close. “And you’re right, it’s dark and wild. Deep and dangerous. Endless. Humbling.”

With her throat constricted and filled with tears Rachel couldn’t respond with words, and managed only a strangled gasp.

“No.” Quinn’s nose bumped against Rachel’s ear. “Look up.”

Rachel tilted her head back. Until she no longer saw the bow or the ocean.

Stars. A field of them, unobstructed and twinkling merrily.

“There’s the light,” Quinn whispered. “It’s right there and it’s your favorite kind.”

The laugh that tore itself from Rachel’s chest hurt. It mutated into a sob. She twisted back into Quinn and grabbed the back of her neck. The body against hers began to quake. Their dance started over again. Quinn dipped her head and Rachel felt the splash of hot tears against her neck. She clutched harder at the heaving body, finally feeling the rightness wash over her again.

Safety.

Her throat hurt. Gulping for air she whimpered Quinn’s name and pulled at her and Quinn didn’t say anything. Her hands dropped and fingers curled around Rachel’s hips. Like they had when they’d first arrived and Rachel had directed them there. They squeezed.

Quinn stumbled backwards and Rachel felt it when her back hit the wall, but she couldn’t let go of her. Rachel trusted her to help them both.

When Quinn slid down the wall, she followed and let Quinn’s hands show her what to do. Kept her eyes closed and gave in.

The touches were careful and gentle, guiding her into a cocoon-like embrace. When she opened her eyes she found herself sitting in Quinn’s lap, her head tucked under a sharp chin. She was being cradled and it made her eyes brim and run over again.

“It’s not your fault,” Quinn said, shuddering and breathing deep. “It’s not.”

Rachel curled up and leaned in.

\---

TBC in Green Valley


End file.
